


Coming Home

by CulturePopper



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CulturePopper/pseuds/CulturePopper
Summary: When faced with family tragedy and uncovering long-held secrets from her mother's past, Hecate learns to trust that Ada is someone she can lean on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subcutaneous7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subcutaneous7/gifts).



> I’ve read a thousand A/N’s and have adored seeing how many friends, partners, and creators contributed to a writer’s process. This is the first multi-chapter fic I’ve ever published and I’m positive it wouldn’t be half as good if it wasn’t for the ideating, editing, and overall love of my wife, @subcutaneous7. I’m grateful for the Hackle fandom, your wonderful fic, art, vids, and conversations have made this delightful pair the only ship I’ve been inspired to write for. This is for all the romantics out there. The ones who value holding hands, enjoying the everyday moments of life that make an otherwise terrifying world seem beautiful and new. This is for my wife, my friends, and for anyone who doesn’t feel like they can be loved for who they are. You don’t need to change. You’re perfect. Someone will see you for all that makes you unique.

She could feel the magic tingling beneath her skin. It was hers.

Sometimes, it would spark up her arm when she brushed too close to someone, or it would tickle her shin on the soft spring breeze. It was almost as if it were reaching out for Earth’s renewal, sprouting from what had died the season before, as a fiddlehead stretched toward the sun. At twelve years old, it was the one thing Hecate Hardbroom loved about herself.

Hecate was sensitive to her magic. She would listen to it when it acted without her will. Her talent was adapting to the ever-growing power, learning to control it. Sometimes, when she was very still, she would lie on top of her sheets, close her eyes and envision what she felt beneath her skin – spirals of glittering gold magic weaving through blood and veins under the surface of her small frame. She would lie awake for hours in the dark just to connect with that feeling, the thing that made her so unique. 

There was something about it that made her feel mighty. It was her only friend. It kept her company and surprised her, fueling her imagination with endless possibilities.

Hecate’s family home was a tall, thin Tudor on a property near a cliff side. There was a lush garden in front of the house. It wasn’t properly manicured, but it was curated. Some of the foliage had been planted specifically for use as ingredients in spells, but most of it was wild, local to the area, maintained solely by the land itself. 

There was a large wooden box painted black out in the garden that contained a selection of herbs. The rosemary outgrew its container over time and was replanted in the ground beside it. Every summer a strong gust would carry the earthy fragrance through the open windows. Hecate waited for that scent all year. It brought with it the promise that winter had come and gone, and she would now be able to roam freely beneath the sweltering sun.

One day, when Hecate was out foraging for supplies to stock the little potions lab she had set up in her room, she noticed wild scorpion grasses growing near some boulders that were dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Eager to add them to the empty vile in her bag, Hecate wound her long black hair into a low knot at the base of her neck with the flick of her wrist. It was the first spell she had mastered. 

Climbing along the cold, dark stones, smooth from years of wind and the elements dulling their sharp edges, Hecate was careful with each step she took. She’d been warned time and again not to climb on the boulders, but this was the first time she’d seen scorpion grasses growing between the massive stones, and the temptation was far too great not to harvest them.

Hecate went to the cliff’s edge weekly. She would go there to think, to be alone and try new spells out of the watchful eye of her aunt with whom she lived.  The cliff fed into a basin below that filled with fog in the mornings and most evenings, which she loved. Few things captivated Hecate more than watching the space between the hills and jagged edges fill with a dense, misty fog that looked like someone pouring a cloud into a bowl.

One of the texts she had been studying, entitled “The Language of Flowers and the Powerful Potions of Ancient Witches,” mentioned that there were two types of ingredients in potions and spell casting: durable and expendable. Nothing was more expendable than wild, rare flowers. They weren’t cared for or planted by anyone. They existed by chance and would survive entirely on their own.

As she got closer to the brilliant blue cluster, Hecate thought about how she herself related to the spirit of a wildflower. She would one day create the life she wanted outside the walls of her modest home. Her upbringing would not inform her future. That was for her to create. She would have all the power she needed at her fingertips and the knowledge in her mind to make things go her way. That was what a witch did after all.

At last, Hecate was close enough to reach the flowers. She perched between two large rocks and held the glass vial she’d been carrying, taking the cork off with her teeth and placing it back in the bag. Reaching out with her right hand, the young witch closed her eyes and chanted, “By all that I see and all that we are, our connection remains no matter how far.” A golden wisp of light sprang from Hecate’s fingers as she placed an enchantment on the flowers. It was the first time she had tried this particular enchantment, but she’d read it was a proven way to replenish an expendable ingredient by binding a part of yourself to the earth, like a promise to take care of one another.

The more she chanted, the more powerful she felt. Bowing her head reverently, Hecate finally reached forward, picking the first of her harvest and placing it lovingly in its new glass home. She took a second and a third, not knowing exactly what she would use them for, but knowing she needed them.

The fifth and final flower was on the far side of the greenery. She held her breath and leaned in as far as she could, snatching it up when her foot slipped. She fell from between the boulders, smashing her hand against the soil at the edge of the cliff, trying to grab onto something, anything that would stop her downward trajectory. She clutched the vial to her chest, refusing to release the blue flowers, sputtering out a few desperate words in Latin to protect them from harm as she bled from her knees and elbow. With one hand caught firmly between a rock and some old roots, she tried not to let the memory of her aunt’s warnings distract her while she reached back in her mind to find the spell that would save her from descending into the creeping mist below.

Nothing came. Hecate’s small face scrunched with frustration, and before she could cry out for help, the root became unearthed, echoing with a gravely rip above. A terrified scream escaped her, louder than any sound she had ever made. As she fell from the cliff’s side, her right arm scraped against a protruding rock, leaving a gash where there was once black fabric. Every second that passed felt like an hour as the boulders got farther and farther away, her legs kicking upward as she plummeted into the abyss.

Before she could disappear completely, Hecate saw a shadow of a face appear over the edge of the cliff above, and she squeezed her eyes shut, teeth clenched as she awaited impact. The wind that streamed past during her descent suddenly became cool, lingering still across the skin of her open wound as she hovered weightlessly. She inhaled sharply, grabbing hold of her bloody arm, all breath and adrenaline making her head spin until she realized she was, in fact, alive.

With the snap of experienced fingers, Hecate’s aunt transferred her back to the top of the cliff, until she was standing beside the boulders that had betrayed her.

“Hecate Hardbroom,” her aunt scolded. “You  _know_ what you’ve done!”

The old crone stood tall, even with a pronounced hunch to her upper back and shoulders. Her face, though it was painted with disapproval, held the strong, admirable features of a powerful witch. Her chin pointed elegantly beneath thin red lips and eyebrows that were high, dark and bushy. Razor sharp cheekbones carved their way towards her jaw, making her eyes seem almost hollow. She wasn’t traditionally beautiful by any means, but there was something about her that was striking, the thick salt and pepper mane knotted in a messy bun high atop her head giving her the look of an eccentric artist. 

Hecate felt like she was about to faint, holding the charmed vial near her wounded arm as she refused to meet her aunt’s eyes.

“And what do you have in there?” she pointed to the flowers.

“Scorpion grasses, mistress,” young Hecate confessed.

Even after suffering a near-death experience, the young witch never failed to respect her elders, especially while being reprimanded.

“Don’t be daft, girl. Scorpion grasses don’t grow here. They never have in the century our family has been on this land.” 

“But they’re right here, mistress!” Hecate shouted, holding her precious vial in the air.

“Nothing like that should be able to grow here, Hecate, and don’t you _dare_ raise your voice to me ever again,” her aunt growled with a whisper.

Hecate brought the vial back to her arm, fearing at any moment it would be snatched from her possession. She sulked silently, listening to the rest of her aunt’s chastisements, until the older woman fell silent, both of them realizing the bottle had begun to glow blue and gold. Both witches watched, wide-eyed. The flowers began spinning in the vial, glittering magic flowing from the glass to Hecate’s bleeding arm, mending the cut. 

When the scorpion grasses stopped their dance, and the magic fully dissolved into Hecate’s skin, she and her aunt stood perfectly still, struck by what had occurred. Suddenly, her aunt lunged towards her, attempting to seize the bottle, but before the gnarled hand could reach her, Hecate heard a loud crash.

* * *

She inhaled sharply, jolting from the bed, fists clutched to her chest.

A single drop of sweat tickled the skin beneath Hecate’s brow, and she wiped it clean as the sheets fell from her body.

Slowly, she unfurled her black, lacquered talons from her palm, closing her eyes as she whispered to Morgana, who was sitting beside her, concern troubling her furry little face.

“It was just a dream,” Hecate sighed, though she felt only somewhat relieved.

Taking a few more steadying breaths, she looked down at her right arm, brushing long, delicate fingertips over the once-injured skin. The strap of her nightdress fell from her shoulder, mingling with unruly black locks that refused to be tamed in the night. Morgana padded over her lap and hopped from bed to nightstand, where a single book, a half-full glass of water, and a small figurine of a sleek black cat with olive eyes perched. The porcelain feline was a yuletide gift from Ada. The older witch knew Hecate didn't care for frivolous décor. She preferred a more utilitarian, if not spartan design for her rooms, but Ada could not resist, and her deputy couldn’t help but smile at it each morning.

Hecate pointed her hand in the direction of her nightstand, fluttering her index and middle fingers, unlocking the top drawer. She reverently removed a glass vial that had been stored and forgotten there for nearly thirty years, inspecting its contents. The brilliant blue scorpion grasses she had picked as a child sat unchanged by time in their protected chamber. She loosened the cork, placing it on her lap as she inhaled the timeless, floral scent. When she closed her eyes, she could almost see herself once more sitting by the edge of the cliff, looking down into the pool of fog below. It was not an unpleasant memory, and yet she knew better than to allow herself to dawdle in the past. Before long, she replaced the cork and gently returned the flowers to their place by her bedside.

“Something is wrong, Morgana,” she confessed to her familiar, biting her lower lip nervously. “I haven’t had a dream like that since I was in school.”

Within the first few months of witching academy, the first time she had to spend any time away from home overnight, Hecate woke with a similar terror only to be nuzzled reassuringly by her new kitten. The two would fall asleep together, Morgana curled around the top of the young witch’s head.

Now, the cat brought her paw to her mouth similarly, licking lazily as she ran it over her own face and ear.

“Right,” Hecate mumbled, narrowing her eyes at her disinterested companion. “At least _one_ of us is concerned.”

She rose from the bed and crossed to the bathroom, leaning over the sink to wash her face when a sharp ache painfully pricked her arm. It caused her to jolt, water splashing over her nightgown as she lurched. Hecate stood completely still, eyes wide, not unlike the day Mildred Hubble had extinguished her during the fire drill. She stared into the mirror at her ghostly complexion, heart racing.

_Hecate Hardbroom. Settle. This instant._

After rushing through the rest of her normal routine, dressed in black and blue with her signature bun perched high and tight atop her head, she left her rooms for the noise and comfort of her colleagues in the dining room. Hecate stood outside her bedroom door, perking the ends of her collar as a few groggy first years passed her by.

“Morning, Miss Hardbroom,” they mumbled.

“Make your way to the hall, girls,” she straightened as she replied, leaning close to the young witches’ faces as she drawled. “Before Miss Tapioca’s porridge gets any colder.”

Raising a hand to her face, she twisted her fingers one at a time from pinky to ring, middle to index, and finally thumb, dramatically disappearing with the help of a transference spell. The girls looked at each other and giggled, shuffling off to join their fellow classmates for breakfast.

* * *

Hecate reappeared in the hall already in mid-stride, catching up with her peers. She didn’t particularly care for sharing mealtime with a large group of people, but over the years it had become easier. When she reached her chair, she wrapped her talons around the carved wooden owl, sliding the chair out as she took her seat next to Ada. 

“Good morning, Hecate,” the silver-haired headmistress greeted with a wide grin and a spoonful of fruit in hand.

 _There she is. Like clockwork,_ Hecate swallowed, allowing herself the slightest smirk.

“And to you, Ada,” she nodded mildly, lowering her eyes to the table as she draped her napkin across her lap.

Hecate glanced down the line, watching as Miss Drill poked at her porridge and Miss Bat and Mister Rowan-Webb made eyes at each other while sipping their tea. _All is as it should be,_ she thought, trying to reassure herself. With the swift motion of her fingers, a plate of toast and fruit along with a saucer of tea appeared before her.

“Really, Hecate,” Dimity bellowed. “Is it so difficult to walk across the room and make yourself a plate?”

“Of course it isn’t, Miss Drill, but it is also beyond me why I should _want_ to do so when this way is far more expedient,” Hecate replied dryly, directing her attention back to an amused Ada, who sat snickering while she tucked in to a piece of toast with wild blueberry jam.

The sporty witch mumbled something undoubtedly rude beneath her breath before going back to poking at her ever-hardening breakfast.

Hecate loved using magic for nearly everything she did. It enhanced the mundanity of life, elevating the every day ever so slightly. Why hold a book while reading when one could levitate it instead, flipping the pages without ever having to touch a thing? Why walk when one could transfer directly to the place one wished to be?

Other things, she insisted, were better without adding magic to the mix, like bathing in a large clawfoot tub or making a rare coffee. Hecate would make a coffee occasionally on the weekends when her days weren’t riddled with classes and the antics of children. It was something she’d chosen to do when she wanted to honor the simplicity of the process and the tradition of making something with her hands.

As a student, she’d studied abroad for a year in France and learned a few things about herself during the reprieve. For one, she liked the hot bitterness that came with a fresh cup of coffee. She enjoyed the way the first sip stung her lips, how the heat traveled indulgently down her esophagus, warming her inch by inch. She preferred tea generally, but every now and then she traded a smooth Darjeeling for something stronger.

It was around the same time that she also learned she wasn’t interested in men in the slightest, their attempts at courtship always far too dull or boorish to alight her finer senses. She preferred nuance, sincerity, and strength, but also a sweetness that all the men she encountered seemed to lack. Then again, it was often difficult to find anyone, of any gender, with enough substance to hold her attention.

“I’ll need to step away before my fourth-year potions class to mirror my aunt,” she whispered in Ada’s ear.

Ada looked up from her toast and met Hecate’s eyes, seeing for the first time that something was off.

“Whatever you need,” Ada spoke low, wiping her lips with a napkin as she blinked. “I can cover your class this morning if you wish.”

“It should only take a moment,” Hecate shook her head, looking down with a light, diffusive smile. The fragrance of cinnamon and bergamot swam to her nose, instantly calming her nerves. The fuchsia sweater Ada loved to wear had a unique smell to it that was perfectly, distinctly her. “It’s just - well I need to check in on her is all. It’s been too long.”

She straightened her back, sitting up as she took a sip of tea.

“Of course,” Ada knitted her brows.

Hecate could read her disapproval out of the corner of her eye, knowing Ada would eventually want to talk about whatever was going on. She always knew when there was something amiss. Hecate cringed at the thought of anyone worrying about her, least of all Ada. She had enough to keep her busy with the second years constantly blowing something up or crashing into the woods, their magic far too negligent to be left to their own devices. 

The bell rang as the first years rose to head to their classes. Hecate snapped her fingers, clearing the dishes from the faculty table entirely. 

“Oyi!” Dimity shouted. “I wasn’t through with that!”

“Perhaps, then, you should attempt to finish your meals in a more timely manner, Miss Drill,” Hecate’s lips thinned, her hand raised to transfer before a reply died on the lips of her colleague.

“Drama queen,” Dimity drolled.

Everyone went about their day then, with the exception of one very curious headmistress, who made her way to the potions lab to wait for her deputy.

* * *

It felt like there was a rod stuck in Hecate’s back as she sat in front of the mirror, willing her aunt to answer. All she could see in the room beyond the glass was the back of an empty armchair, a side table with her aunt’s favorite saucer, and a stack of dusty books and papers beyond that.

 _Her chair isn’t typically turned in that direction,_ Hecate mused. _She hasn’t changed the arrangement of furniture in her rooms for nearly a century._  

She waited a few more moments and tried to ring her again.

“Min-er-va,” she sang, calling out to her aunt’s familiar. _Where are you, you silly thing?_

She’d known the cat just as long as she’d known her aunt. They’d taken to each other over time and kept the other amused. Sometimes, before Hecate had a familiar of her own and understood the particular bond of such a relationship, she would get jealous of how her aunt treated Minerva. Hecate remembered chasing the skinny, black cat down the hall into the room she was staring at now. Her aunt had scolded her for running, scooping the cat in her arms and stalking away whispering consolatory nothings into her dark fur.

Shaking off the memory, Hecate leaned forward, attempting to take a closer look. The room seemed darker than usual. The windows were drawn shut while bright beams of dust-laden sun poured through the gaps in the curtains. Her aunt always kept them open in the mornings, letting the houseplants drink in the light of a new day. 

There appeared to be a strange pile of dust or dirt near the center of the room that was notably sizeable. Hecate squinted slightly, wishing she could bring the image into focus, but the oddity was partially out of view.

 _What on Earth_ … she started. Her breath hitched, stomach turning in on itself. _Something really isn’t right_. She just knew it.

Hecate stood then, in the small, mirrored room in the east wing, wishing she had made the call from her own rooms instead. Pacing, she reached for the pocket-watch around her neck, strumming sharp fingernails nervously until she made a decision.

Bringing her hand to her chest, she added a twist of the wrist, transferring to her potions lab where Ada sat quietly with the year fours. They were focused on their cauldrons, dithering with ingredients, stirring and sniffing to ensure they were on the right track. She approached her friend, head lowered, both hands clamped around her precious necklace. She took a deep breath then, only to release it as a whisper.

“I need to fly out tonight to see about my aunt. She failed to answer her mirror.”

“Are you sure she isn’t just out at the moment?” Ada offered. “Who's to say she didn’t pop into the kitchen for a biscuit?”

“I know something’s wrong,” Hecate admitted. “I felt…” she stopped herself, which only seemed to intrigue Ada more. Hecate tried to school her features, looking at the headmistress with tired, knitted brows. 

“Come by my office before you leave,” Ada requested, reaching for the deputy’s forearm. “Everything will be alright.”

Hecate absorbed the smile Ada gave her, letting it warm the parts of her that were chilled. She watched the headmistress cross the classroom, regarding her once more before Ada left her to teach. Hecate turned her back to the students, regaining control, perusing the shelves of ingredients, touching each bottle, but not doing anything of importance as she absentmindedly slid her fingertips over the shelves.

Noticing the silence emanating from her usually chatty pupils, it was time to do what she did best. _Perhaps they overheard something_ , she thought, which simply would not do. 

“Stop what you’re doing,” she announced with her back to them.

All eyes turned towards the elegant woman in black, the girls waiting for their next order.

“Swap. Cauldrons,” she demanded, slowly twirling to see their expressions.

They, of course, hated when she did this. Their success depended on their fellow classmate’s grasp of the task at hand. It was a fine lesson in sisterhood, as well as the inevitable importance of collective victory or failure.

Light guffaws and whines erupted when Hecate suddenly lifted her arms, fingers turned up and separated as if she were holding two heavy watermelons on the tips of her talons. Golden light radiated from her digits as she raised all the cauldrons in the room and then slammed them down again, the liquid sloshing up the sides of the iron, but not spilling over.

“ _What_ was that?” she growled, eyes wide. 

“Yes, Miss Hardbroom,” the year fours replied. The girls began flitting about the room, trying to get to a new cauldron to finish the potions their classmates had started. 

Hecate crossed her arms in front of her chest and went back to thinking about her aunt, hoping she really was well. The older woman had suffered from dementia for the last few years. She was constantly setting traps for people she thought were coming to take her away. Once, when Hecate arrived for a visit over the summer holiday, she walked up the front path through the overgrown garden that led to the tall, thin house she knew so well. She took another step closer, only to find the front door covered in poisonous, camouflaged vines that whipped towards anyone who approached them. Luckily, she dodged an angry one before it could make contact with her face, but it was terrifying to think of a stranger coming to the house only to leave with a deadly gash and no way to heal it.

 _There has to be an explanation for this_ , Hecate breathed in sharply, stalking along the front row of desks again as she attempted to bring herself back to the present.

* * *

The day always flew by when she was plagued with such anxiety. Hecate’s thoughts consumed the time usually spent experimenting or tutoring.  She arrived at Miss Cackle’s door later that evening, the large, wooden entrance opening before she could even knock.

“I knew it was you by the sound of your shoes,” the older witch confessed, her tone light. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Hecate forced a smile. “I’m glad I’ve become so… predictable?”

The words sounded harsher aloud than they did in her head.

“On the contrary, dear. You’re anything but predictable,” Ada reassured. “Now, why don’t you sit down and tell me more about what’s going on?” 

Ada was clearly ready to listen, even as she swept to the other side of the room to put the kettle on.

“The thing is I… I’m not sure I could…” Hecate started and stopped. _What if she thinks I’m ridiculous?_ This kind of fear always started as a whisper she could silence with focus, but there were times it was louder than her will. “It’s… a family matter.”

Ada stopped fussing with the tea, looking up at the deputy head as she peered over her glasses, holding her joined hands beneath her waist.

“Sit down, Hecate,” she directed.

“I… Ada I _have_ to go,” the taller witch started, shifting her eyes, unable to explain what happened earlier that day or why she had such a strong feeling about her aunt, but her biggest fear at the moment was that Ada might lose faith in her or think she was overreacting.

“I’m not going to force you down and make you talk. You know that.”

The thought of Ada taking any level of force with her made Hecate’s mind shift, if only for a second, in dangerous, irrelevant ways that were far from appropriate. 

“Let me check on her, please,” Hecate calmed herself. “I promise to mirror when I arrive. Everything else I’ll tell you upon my return. Of course, it does mean I’ll miss my classes…” 

“I know you care about your classes,” Ada interrupted. “But at a time like this, I feel it’s only secondary to you and your family’s well being.” 

Hecate pressed her burgundy lips together as Ada continued. 

“Go to the house. Mirror to let me know you’re safe. Do what you must, and then, please come back."

Ada lowered herself into her chair and turned her gaze to the fire, ending the conversation.

“Yes, headmistress,” Hecate nodded, returning to the door, taking another peek at Ada before exiting. 

The formality of their interaction felt like a hand being extended to create distance. It was sometimes like that, both of them using the metaphorical gesture as a buffer when they had an audience, or in times like these when there was so much left unsaid, the absence of information filling the room with unnecessary anxiety. Hecate hated leaving Ada in the dark, but there was no time to waste going over details that may not mean anything. Not until she was able to investigate further, put a damper on her own anxieties before she dragged Ada into something she did not yet fully understand.

Hecate stood outside the office door, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress, stopping at her hips before transferring outside to where her broomstick waited for her departure.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a little more than an hour to fly from Cackle’s to the house on the cliff. Hecate lowered herself onto the garden path that led to the doorway, sending her broomstick ahead to lean against a column. Sometime that evening, the fog had risen above the basin, covering most of the property, leaving mist dancing among the overgrown vines as it gathered in droplets on the petals of resting flowers.

It was a moonless sky. Only the stars offered to light Hecate’s path until she flicked her fingers, generating an illumination enchantment that helped her find her way to the house. With another twist of her hands, she spoke, “Though I wish not to alarm, I command this place to disarm,” casting a spell to deactivate any concealed traps her aunt might have set since her last visit. Gilded magic sprung from her palms, pouring out into the foliage before her, mixing with the thickness of the air. A series of clicks and snaps rang through the garden, indicating the many attempts her aunt had made to secure her safety.

Hecate stepped from stone to stone with hands firmly clasped behind her back, finally arriving at the front door. Not a light in the house was on. It was unnerving.

 _Surely she would have mirrored if she’d gone somewhere else?_ she insisted. _Or sent a bat informing me of any trips she had planned?_

Both hands reached forward, willing the door to open. When it finally budged, it was as if a breath released from the house. The first few steps inside revealed a stale odor and the subtle scent of decay, like roses that had died in a vase only to be left alone to rot. The door creaked closed behind her, and Hecate was swallowed up in total silence.

“Aunt M?” she called out, hearing nothing but an echo in return. “Minerva? Are you there?”

Still nothing.

Hecate cast another disarming spell for the bottom floor just as a swarm of bees turned a corner, roaring above her head with a buzz in their liquid cluster. She ducked down, curling her index and middle fingers, whipping back a scattering spell. The insects broke away from the horde, each looking for its own separate escape. She ignored them, clapping her hands, turning on the lights in her vicinity.

Making her way upstairs, Hecate dragged her fingers along the wall as she climbed, touching but not regarding the framed images she passed. The last few steps squeaked sharply, causing her ears to perk at the sound.

The door to her aunt’s room was open. Hecate’s stomach began to ache with palpable anxiety. The bed was made with the exception of a small, black familiar resting on her aunt’s pillow.

“There you are, silly girl,” Hecate approached. “This is no time for a catnap.”

She slowed her pace, eyes widening when she realized there was no reaction. Every step she took in her thick high heels suddenly sounded like hammers on the wood floor, until she stopped. Her eyes watered, somehow knowing what all of this meant before the thought could be fully processed.

 _She’s gone,_ she sighed, shaking.

_Both of them are gone._

The small cat must have come to her favorite place to pass on and join her mistress in the next life. There was no sign of what ill demise had befallen her aunt just yet, but Hecate knew it had. Minerva and Aunt M were so connected, it only made sense. If one of them had left this realm, the other was sure to follow.

The realization of what she’d lost began to hit her all at once. Hecate fell onto the bed, dropped her head into her hands, slumped over onto the pillow next to Minerva and allowed herself to cry freely, with no one there to witness her weakness.

She was alone now. It was she and this house. No family would fight her for it or any of its contents. No children would grow up in this place in the same solemn way she did. She was the last of the Hardbroom line.

Suddenly, despite the immense, dizzying haze of grief overtaking her senses,  Hecate realized she had never mirrored Ada to let her know she’d arrived. She sat up defiantly, quickly applying a drying spell to her face as she walked to the rusted pane of glass sitting on her aunt’s vanity. Before she made the call, she checked her own reflection. She looked exhausted. Her face was paler than usual, the black wings of her eyeliner smudged with tears.

 _What’s the use?_ She shrugged. _She’ll know something’s wrong regardless._

With a nod in the direction of the mirror, the room filled with a warm orange glow, the light emanating from Ada’s office back at Cackle’s. Hecate hadn’t yet announced herself, but she could see Ada pacing in front of her lit fireplace. Pendle sat atop a pillow nearby, watching his mistress move to and from the flames like a slow-motion tennis match.

“Ada,” Hecate managed to sputter the announcement.

“Oh! Finally!” Ada moved to the mirror with a smile.

“I’m sorry to have kept you up so late,” Hecate lowered her voice.

“Nonsense. I’m just glad you remembered. I was starting to worry since it usually only takes you an hour or so by broomstick, and with ever…” Ada’s voice trailed off, realizing she was rambling. “Enough of all that. There you are. And how is your aunt?”

“It would seem…” Hecate swallowed. “It would appear she’s gone.”

It took a few seconds for Ada to realize exactly what Hecate meant. When she did, her mouth opened, eyebrows raised in horror, until she was able to quickly school her features and step closer to the mirror, her hand raised to the side of it as if she were reaching out through the glass to offer some solace with a gentle touch.

“Oh, Hecate,” Ada winced mournfully. “I’m so dreadfully sorry. What happened?” 

“I’m not sure yet. I’ve found Minerva, but not Aunt M. Judging by the state of the house, it looks like it may have been a few weeks.”

“What can I do?”Ada’s tender eyes watered for her friend. “Do you want me to join you?”

“No, please. One of us needs to remain at the school. As grateful as I am, I… I wouldn’t want this to distract from the girls.”

“What will you do now?”

“I need to discern what’s happened. Then I’ll close the house and return to school.” Hecate looked around her aunt’s bedroom, noticing everything was in its place. “I find it so hard to imagine her not being here. This home was everything to her.”

“And now it’s yours. Isn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” Hecate whispered, straightening, trying to regain some of her usual composure. “I’ve kept you long enough.”

“You know I’m always here for you, don’t you?” Ada comforted as Hecate tried, and failed, to keep it together.

“Of course,” she replied with a forced, small smile, willing the tears not to fall. “That has never been in question.”

“I’ll let you get to it then. Please be safe,” Ada adjusted her glasses. “I look forward to having you back.”

Hecate’s eyes darted up to the mirror, just in time to witness her own blush creep across her face at the sweet words. 

“And I look forward to returning,” Hecate admitted softly. “Goodnight, Ada.”

“Rest well, dear.” 

The room felt void of all color once the mirror disconnected. The warm tones from the fire, paired with Ada’s unsinkable kindness, had lifted Hecate momentarily, bringing her comfort amid the loss. It took every ounce of strength not to get back on her broomstick and fly back home immediately. 

 _This doesn’t feel like home._ The sudden realization thrummed in her chest.

Cackle’s was home. She had a purpose there. She was a force to be reckoned with there. As much as the girls feared her, Hecate knew they only wanted to be seen and heard and told how good they were. Just like everyone else.

 _Just like me_ , she swallowed.

She’d developed a dreadful need to please long ago, learning from her tutor, Mistress Broomhead, that a sure way to get a witch to improve was to make her feel like she knew nothing. The only person to ever make her feel like the goodness in her wasn’t weakness was Ada. She was the balance to her severity. Together, they had educated two generations of witches, many of whom became rather successful thanks, in part, to their leadership.

She and Ada were practically inseparable. There wasn’t a situation Ada didn’t ask Hecate to weigh in on or help solve. _Well,_ she corrected herself, _all but one._ The only time she could remember Ada leaving her out of the mix was when Mildred Hubble found the twins’ birth scroll the last time the mists rolled in. Knowing Hecate’s adherence to the Witches’ Code, Ada had no doubt feared it would cause a rift between them, though they had since been through much worse.

The day the Founding Stone lost its magic was the greatest catastrophe either had survived in their careers. Even now, ten months and a whole new class of first years later, the students and teachers were still recovering from the fallout. Hecate found herself with more patience and tenderness for Mildred, Maud, and Enid after almost losing them to the ice. She’d never forget the chill creeping through her veins, slowly draining her of her own magic. Her last thought, the thing that ran through her mind right before everything went black, was of course of Ada. She envisioned her back in the potions lab, ice making its way up her neck, lips trying to form her name one last time before she was silenced. Hecate’s small frame shook each and every time she was plagued by the image.

The thought of losing her magic was terrifying, but nothing was more utterly paralyzing than the thought of losing Ada. Sometimes, in the darkness of her rooms, she would lie awake thinking about how her headmistress made her feel. There were days in the summer when they would spend hours together alone, no students to interrupt their walks in the cool forest. Other days, they’d simply sit together in Ada’s office reading before sharing mealtime. They’d take turns making dinner or selecting a bottle of wine to share. Hecate’s favorite dish to make for Ada was an heirloom tomato pie with vegetable and herbs from the school garden. It was fresh and decadent, and it paired nicely with a rich lemon buttercream petit four to satisfy Ada’s sweet tooth.

When she took the time to linger on Ada, it felt like butterflies were teasing at her insides, fluttering until they turned her skin to gooseflesh. They lived together, in separate rooms on separate floors. They shared the same passion for pedagogy and magic theory. Both had devoted their entire lives to the education and development of smart, responsible, powerful witches. They could talk for hours on end about any subject, or sit together enjoying the dreamy silence of a snowy winter’s night. They’d been each other’s first and last conversation, day in and day out, every day for decades. Hecate felt validated, cared for, heard, and as close to loved as she had ever been.

The longer she was away from Cackle’s and all of its inhabitants, the sooner she wished to return. She shook free from her musings, getting back to the task at hand. There was far too much to do before she could return home.

Hecate made her way back downstairs, looking for any sign of where she might find her aunt. Focusing her mind, she sent a tracking spell from her palm. The golden orb zoomed through the house, turning corners and materializing through walls before settling above her aunt’s favorite chair in the sitting room. The chair was still turned out of sight, away from the mirror.

She walked over to the worn antique and noticed the pile of dust on the floor that looked like grains of sand poured out of an hourglass. It was the same curiosity she noticed when she’d mirrored from the school. The table had an envelope with the letter “H” written on it in cursive. A breath she must have been holding in suddenly came pouring out in a sputter. Her eyes softened, and one corner of her lips moved, straining to hold back the tears that wanted to escape so badly. She looked down again at the pile of dust, and everything came together.

She reached down, taking the envelope between cautious fingers. Pressing it to her chest, she moved across the room to sit on the settee. She removed the parchment from the envelope, letting another deep breath escape before unfolding the letter and starting to read.

_Dear Hecate,_

_There are few things in this world I have loved, but you have been one of them. It is important that you know this. Admissions of love or kindness were not traits which came naturally to me, as you well know, but that does not mean you don’t deserve to know now._

_I haven’t been well for some time and fear the hours are few where I am sure in my thoughts. I want you to know before I’m gone and it’s too late for this life._

_I was upset with your mother when she came to me after traveling for so long. She was pregnant with you and we fought. Days after her arrival, she gave birth to you here, alone. She wouldn’t let me near at first. A week after your birth, she finally asked for my help._

_Your mother and I took you to the edge of the cliff where a patch of scorpion grasses bloomed. She placed your tiny body in the flowers and chanted a variation of a binding spell to connect you two beyond this life. Her magic flowed over you and the flowers that beautiful day, and it was the only time I wished for a child of my own._

_Something I have replayed in my mind over and over again was the day those monsters took your mother from us. You might remember seeing a glistening blue flash burst from her body before she was gone. I’m sorry I refused to talk with you about it after that day. You were just a child, and I couldn’t find the words. Her final spell was an ignition spell. She put out her own light before it could be taken by the flame. What you saw was her magic going out into the world. The people who shared her connection were all touched by the magic – her coven, her loved ones, and you._

_The day you fell off the cliff and the flowers healed you – that was your mother. Those scorpion grasses hadn’t bloomed since your birth, but when you chanted a binding spell over them that day, your mother’s magic was reignited in the earth from which our family came. I lied to you that day. This is your land and your home. I want you to have it. I want you to make a family here if it were your will._

_My brilliant Hecate, you come from a long line of brave, powerful and loving witches. I fear your early life with me did not give you enough of a glimpse of that legacy. Our lineage can be traced back through the centuries, rooting to the first documented witches and beyond. You’ll find as much in the books in the basement. It took me years to trace them all back for us._

_We fought beside some of the most powerful women and goddesses this world has ever seen, vowing to protect, defend and fight for all that is good in this life._

_The truth is, you were my child for the time I had you. At the end of my days, I can admit that now. Never let your love be silenced, dear Hecate. Learn from my mistakes and make memories that in your old age you can be proud of.  Your mother would be as proud as I am of the formidable witch you have become._

_Never forget where your magic comes from._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Aunt M_  

Tears were streaming down Hecate’s face, air coming to her in gasps as she choked out a sob. Placing the letter beside her, she wrapped her long arms around her waist, holding herself for comfort. 

Though it wasn’t written explicitly, Hecate knew now that her aunt must have also extinguished her own light when she felt the end growing near, just as her mother had. 

 _It all must have been too much,_ she shook. _Poor Minerva’s heart must have broken soon after._   

The letter held so many answers to questions Hecate had asked all her life. Her aunt told her a few stories over the years, feeding her curiosity further. Every time she’d try to learn more, she was silenced. Now she realized it wasn’t because of anything she did, rather it was her aunt who did not know how to tell her the full story. She gave what she could and snapped when pushed, but she did love her. 

Hecate wiped her eyes, lifting from the settee to look around the room. She took a silver box from the mantle and used her magic to fill it with her aunt’s remains, placing the box on the table where the letter was found. 

There was a stack of records piled up near the sitting area. She could remember her aunt playing them from time to time, loving how the music mixed with magic and became a sort of chant. Sometimes Minerva would float next to her aunt, paws paddling as if she were swimming in invisible water. She and her aunt would giggle at the cat’s expense. 

A more painful memory came when she noticed what was sitting atop the pile. It was a worn copy of Bellini’s “Norma” sung by Maria Callas, a powerful witch in her own right. Hecate remembered the last time her aunt listened to it. She sat back in her chair and openly wept during “Casta Diva.” Hecate was leaving for the academy later that day. She never asked her aunt if she was crying because of the music or because her only niece was leaving for school, but now the answer was clear.

Everything in the house suddenly felt more precious now than it ever had. It was all that was left of Hecate’s family, every bunch of dried flowers, the framed images on the walls, every tiny bottle, covered in dust, carrying so much more meaning, the memories and fingerprints of everyone who has left her behind. 

Her thoughts once again floated up to Minerva. The sweet familiar who’d served her mistress well for the better part of a century still needed to be laid to rest. Hecate held out her arms, transferring the feline’s small, lifeless body to her reverent embrace. 

Hecate conjured the only other item she’d need to lay the familiar to rest. Holding the cat safely in her arms, petting her soft, black fur, she transferred to the darkness of the cliff’s edge. Her eyes, now crimson, bore a hole into the ground near the boulders she knew so well. Calming her nerves was her first priority. A witch who was not in control could create disastrous outcomes when casting magic. Hecate closed her eyes and chanted. 

“Feather picked from a black crow’s nest. Fresh tears shed from a witch bereft. I return you to the earth, to the love of the one you knew best.” 

Warm lines of new tears ran from Hecate’s cheeks onto Minerva’s fur where she gently placed a silky black feather. With a hitch in her throat, she finished, “Goodnight, sweet friend,” and wiped away the remaining tears, lowering the familiar into the ground. 

As she began filling in the small hole with dirt, Hecate decided she would return to Cackle’s that night. The soil and stones were damp, collecting under her nails, but it was soothing to connect with the earth. There was no way she’d be able to sleep in the house with any ease, the pain of so much loss and startling new information was enough to completely destabilize and delay her mourning process. 

The decision made, she surrounded the shallow grave with small rocks, creating a pentagram in the center with fallen sticks. She transferred back to the house, glancing around one last time before setting out. With the flick of a wrist, her letter and the recording of “Norma” disappeared to be brought back with her. Now that her aunt’s ashes were secure in the silver box and Minerva had been buried, the only thing left was to go home. She was in no state to prepare two burials in one evening, needing time to properly plan a memorial. 

Hecate transferred to the front door and turned off the light. Before leaving, she looked back at the utter darkness of the space, and then shut it behind her, calling for her broomstick. Narrow hips settled on the thin beam as she adjusted her cape and hat. With three taps, she was airborne, rising directly above the pitched roof. 

Hecate closed her eyes, back straight as a board, legs tucked beneath and arms stretched long and wide. A burst of gold glitter rained down from her fingertips onto the property, flowing and sinking into everything beneath her as she cast a protective spell. 

It might have been closer to sunrise than she hoped, but she would ride all night if it meant she’d land where she knew she belonged. Hecate leaned forward, balancing her weight on her forearms and palms. With another set of taps on the underside of the broom, she began her journey back to the academy. Her eyes were heavy and her stomach felt tight, but she knew who she was more deeply than she ever had before. 

She was the last Hardbroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Flying high above rolling hills and small villages never got old. The sun on the horizon cast a brilliant glow on all that Hecate passed. She could see the academy getting closer, the sun burning off the mild morning fog. The air was thick with the transition of late summer to fall, dense foliage reaching its peak before starting to die off. The leaves were just beginning to lose their rich evergreen, giving way to flaming reds and oranges, indicating yet another end.

Hecate finally floated above the castle, inspecting the gates and walls. Even in her exhausted haze, she tried to make sure the school and all of its occupants were safe. With one last go around the right tower, she transferred to her rooms, sending her broomstick to the faculty rack to rest. 

Hecate fell onto her bed, regretfully acknowledging this was the usual time she would wake. It was nearly impossible for her to stay asleep once the sun had risen most days, but after tonight, all she wanted was to do was take up permanent residence beneath the covers. Ada wasn’t expecting her yet, so she wouldn’t have been missed if she decided to be alone for the day. She snapped her fingers, summoning the record and letter, both appearing on the bed next to her. 

The temptation to dissolve into her sheets wasn’t nearly as great as her need to be close to Ada. She was the grounding force that helped keep her going, and today would be no different. She needed to push through this. Stopping now to process everything would take longer than she had the patience to manage. 

Hecate kept a bookshelf of rare ingredients by her desk. It was also where she kept some of the failed and more dangerous potions and powders students had created without being granted permission. Hecate walked over to the sterile, metal shelves, plucking a Wide Awake Potion from its place beside the Forgetting Powder and Courage Potion the year ones were known to fashion out of desperation. 

 _Just one sip_ , she promised herself. _Just to get through today._

Without a second thought, she removed the lid and replaced it with her lips, tilting her head back, allowing the thick serum to burn a path down her throat. Her body seized in response to the harsh liquid, vision momentarily blurred as her pupils dilated. Her heart raced at the jarring, but entirely typical response to such an intense potion. She placed the bottle back on the shelf and hurried across the room to look in the mirror by the sink. 

The reflection staring back did not appear like anyone she knew. Her hair was just as wild as her eyes. Her tight bun frayed around the edges, loose with pins missing. The collar on her dress wilted, every line on her face filled with particles of whatever she had flown through on the way back from the house. 

 _Well,_ she swallowed _. I suppose it isn’t half bad, given the circumstances._  

Just then, Morgana jumped down from her perch in the rafters, landing on the desk. Hecate shouted something unintelligible, clearly startled. Her familiar, uninterested in the trouble she was getting into, leaped from desk to floor and up to the bed. She nosed at the letter and began pawing at the record. 

Hecate flicked her hand, lifting her off the bed. 

“That’s not yours,” she probed Morgana. “Is it?” 

She moved the precious items into the top drawer of her desk while the cat gracefully swatted at her. Hecate placed the cat back on the bed before opening her closet, removing her dark, floral patterned skirt and low collared shirt. Wasting no time on a real shower, she applied a few spells that made her look a bit more like herself, dressing quickly and finishing the façade with her signature black cat eyes and pink lips. 

 _This will have to do, I suppose._  

She looked at herself one last time in the mirror, running shaky hands down the front of her body, bringing them to her wide belt, ensuring it was properly fastened before transferring to the dining hall.

* * *

“Hecate!” Ada practically shouted from the table. Checking herself, she started again, “I… Miss Hardbroom, what brings you back so soon?”

“Yea, HB, what’s up?” Miss Drill asked. “We thought you were taking a few days off?”

“It would seem I finished all I needed to do this trip,” Hecate squeezed at the owl on her chair for support, pulling it out quickly, the wood awkwardly squeaking against the floor before the deputy lowered herself into it. She looked down the table, noticing right away that everyone was staring at her. “If _that is all_ , you may avert your eyes,” she requested, bringing her voice down to a harsh whisper.

Ada leaned in close as the others continued doing whatever it was they were doing before the exhausted witch joined them.

“Are you alright, Hecate?” she whispered. “I thought you were planning on being at the house today? When did you even get in?” 

“I’m fine, thank you for asking. I would prefer that we…. talk later. In private.” She tried to school her features, eyes wandering anywhere but in Ada’s direction. If there was anyone who could read between the carefully constructed smoke screen she was trying to maintain, it would be her headmistress. 

Hecate felt Ada watching her fingers point to the buffet across the room, gathering a small bowl of porridge, levitating it to her place at the table. Her lack of appetite was even more pronounced on the Wide Awake Potion, but she knew it would only draw further suspicion if she didn’t eat anything. 

 _Who could possibly enjoy this cement?_ Hecate winced as she dragged her spoon through the thick, wet slop. 

Eating it was out of the question. She tried to think of a way to escape the dining hall, eyeing the year two girls across the room. Her fingers twitched inadvertently beneath the table before she could finish the thought. 

Suddenly, Sybil Hallow screamed. 

“I can’t breathe!” The small witch gasped for air, and Hecate jumped up from the table, transferring to her side. The deputy released her fist, pressed against her side, realizing almost immediately the error her magic had inadvertently caused. 

The young witch instantly felt better, breathing normally after a few seconds, falling into Hecate’s arms. The incident was a perfect distraction, but it was not at all Hecate’s intention to suffocate the youngest Hallow. She had only imagined turning her porridge into a swarming swirl of worms for a mere second, or perhaps tripping one of the other pupils, sending her books into the air before being rescued in the nick of time. She would never have caused any of the girls to suffer any real harm or put them in serious jeopardy. The thought alone caused her to knees to buckle with remorse for what could have been far worse. 

Her magic was unstable. This was her biggest fear coming to fruition. The lack of control she felt at that moment filled her with immense anger. 

She placed young Sybil back at the table and straightened, staring across the room at Ada, whose eyes were glued to her face. 

“There, there, Miss Hallow,” Ada soothed. “You seem to be just fine now.” 

“Thank you, Miss Hardbroom,” Beatrice Bunch shouted. “You saved her life!”

The other girls at tables nearby were all whispering furiously to one another. A touch of drama usually stole the day’s focus when they should be more concerned with revising. Hecate shook her head abruptly, refusing to feed the rumor mill. 

“It was nothing,” Hecate swallowed, fidgeting anxiously as she distanced herself “Finish your breakfast.” 

She quickly fled from the hall, refusing to return to the table of her peers, lest they ask further questions. When she was safely out of sight, she transferred directly to the potions lab. 

“I thought I’d find you here.” Ada sat perched on a stool by Hecate’s desk, beating her to the punch.

“Ada!” Hecate fell back against the closed door, hand flying to her chest. She was out of breath, the effects of the Wide Awake Potion continuing to wreak havoc on her nervous system, strung out and much too full of useless energy to be any good to anyone. “You scared me.”

“I could say the same thing, you know?” Ada held her hands the way she did when she was thinking, or about to get very serious.

“I’m fine,” Hecate assured. “There’s no need for you to…I don’t want you to worry.”

“What happened?” Ada’s voice lowered when she asked again. 

“As I said earlier, I did everything I needed to do, so I came back,” Hecate waltzed towards the ingredients on her shelves, closing the distance between them ever so slightly. “It was pointless to take time off when there was nothing to …” 

“Surely there was more to do, Hecate. You just lost someone you care about! The whole house is yours now, and Minerva. I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, but I…” 

“That’s right,” Hecate interrupted. “You can’t. You weren’t there. I just… please. Give me some time.” 

The younger witch stretched her long fingers, hands fully extended. Her eyes were wild, and Ada felt the energy shift in the room. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for the year threes. Their transference spell exams are this week, and we’re beginning practice for this year’s Spelling Bee. I know it isn’t for another month, but I won’t be caught unprepared again this year. If you’ll simply allow me to focus, I…” 

Hecate knew she was rambling. Ada continued to stare at her, though Hecate still refused to meet her eyes. 

“You know where to find me when you’re ready to talk,” Ada started for the door, clearly hoping to be stopped by a hand with long, lacquered fingers, looking terribly disappointed when no such gesture came. 

Hecate busied herself on the bookshelves after that, rearranging bottles, waiting to be alone again, feeling everything at a much sharper degree because of the potion. Her heart squeezed at the thought of Ada walking away, feeling any kind of pain or worry because of her. 

The door closed, and once again, silence became Hecate’s only companion. 

* * *

The day felt like three all merged into one. After Ada left her alone, Hecate prepared the ingredients for all five of her classes. She skipped lunch, still disgusted by the thought of food, choosing to get a head start on grading instead. Her eyelids started to feel heavy by her fifth class,  shoulders aching as the exhaustion caught up with her. 

_All that’s left is dinner, and then rounds. I can do this. I can make it through this day. Just for today._

She’d successfully avoided faculty and staff, but keeping an intentional distance from Ada brought her mind closer and closer to total darkness. She’d been to that place many times before. Prior to her tenure at Cackle’s, there were days on end where she’d stay up on Wide Awake Potion, trying to further her research and develop advanced potions. Those were the Broomhead days. The last time she took the potion, she remembered being up for seven days straight before collapsing in front of a cauldron. She was working on research for Mistress Broomhead’s forthcoming conference. After Hecate completed the tasks and executed the potion, her mentor cast her aside for a new protégé. Hecate was devastated, and she swore off Wide Awake Potion after that because the side effects were always more harmful than any reason one could attempt at rationalizing for taking it in the first place. 

Hecate’s pupils were still dilated, her fingers involuntarily twitching. She knew how dangerous it was to practice magic in this state, but she still wanted to try to conjure a reversal potion to counteract the effects. The main obstacle was what would happen after taking it. The exhaustion of the past few days would inevitably catch up with her all at once. 

Hecate hated feeling like this. There was a forced distance between her and her closest friend, and her body was only remaining upright because of a dangerous, illicit form of magic. She knew she was spiraling. There was so much to consider, so much to do and to think about left back at the house she’d turned her back on, and she did not know where to begin. 

Hecate hovered above her cauldron and looked at the prearranged ingredients. Dropping them in one at a time, she took a handful of dried pondweed, a spoonful of chamomile, a sliver of bee’s sting, and a dollop of bat drool, stirring as she went. The liquid bubbled and smoked, turning from blue to green. She drew her fingers through the steam, always loving how she could weave her stretched digits through it, drawing it closer to her nose to breath in its power. 

Checking her pocket watch for the right amount of seconds to pass before bottling, she realized it was now dinnertime. She poured the neon green antidote into a small glass container with an air locked top and transferred it to her rooms, where she’d be able to enjoy its effects in the comfort of her own bed a bit later.

Hecate transferred back to the dining hall once more after that. Without an appetite, it made trying to eat a nauseating experience. Ada immediately looked up from the table, locking eyes with the exhausted witch across the room. Hecate was the first to break contact. She had won at keeping her distance all day and now was going to be no different. Walking down the aisles, she stopped every so often to chastise one of the girls for not sitting up straight or eating too quickly. 

By the time she reached Felicity Foxglove and Ethel Hallow, she was just about to silence their chatter when Ada appeared next to her, making her jump. 

“Miss Hardbroom, would you mind joining me in my office?” 

 _I’ve been caught,_ she gulped. 

“Of course, Miss Cackle,” Hecate’s face twisted, eyes popping, as she braced for the worst. The only consolation was not having to force down food. 

Ada snapped her fingers, and they both appeared in front of a roaring fire in her office. They stood facing each other, Hecate still refusing to look at the woman standing across from her who was begging her to let her in. 

“Hecate, I’ve known you long enough to understand a few things – you don’t like lemon drops or really any sugary treats, you demand nothing but the best from those around you, and you are a very private witch.” Ada paced to the armchairs, extending her hand towards one of them, inviting her troubled friend to sit. “However, I have two eyes and can see you’re in pain, my dear, so why won’t you let me help you before anything else goes awry?” 

“Ada, I’m sorry… I… it’s just that I,” and before she knew it, Hecate plopped down into the offered receptacle, dropped her head into her hands, and began to sob. 

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Ada soothed, scooting closer to the edge of her seat. “I assure you. Can I make you some tea?” 

Hecate shook her head, ringing her hands in her lap. Her bloodshot eyes begged for the comfort of a dreamless sleep, looking up at the kindness reflected in Ada’s bespectacled face as she carried over a steaming cup and saucer. 

Every moment in Ada’s presence brought peace to Hecate that hadn’t existed any other time in her life. The Wide Awake potion was starting to subside, but she still felt weak. She looked over at Ada in the armchair beside her, watching her fall apart with such tenderness, it made her heart rip at the seams. The person who always listened, who always made her feel like she had a place, a purpose, was pleading with her now to be reasonable, to allow herself to be helped when she desperately needed it. Theirs was a working partnership, a friendship, of equals. 

Ada ran the school because it was her destiny. Hecate was her deputy because she had the skill and power to lead. Their combined skill and power as a pair made for a more balanced and harmonious institution, grounded and forged with both kindness and discipline. Ada always prioritized Hecate’s thoughts and feelings, and if she were being honest, Hecate would never fail to drop anything at a moment’s notice to give Ada whatever she needed. At that moment, all Hecate wished was that she could crawl into Ada’s lap and be held until nothing hurt anymore. 

“I still have to do rounds tonight,” she started, reinforcing the necessary walls between them. “Perhaps we should wait until after…”

“I sent a note along to Algernon,” Ada quickly interjected. He’ll cover for you tonight.” 

Hecate took a deep breath, a soothing sip of chamomile, and decided to get it all out. It took far too much energy to hold in, her strength dwindling. She set down her cup, wrapping her fingers around the backs of her elbows, shoulders hunched.

 _Here goes_ , she sighed _._

“I lost my mother when I was very young.” 

Ada set her cup down as well, settling in to absorb all that Hecate was ready to share, granting her a soft, sympathetic smile. 

“All I knew of her was what my aunt chose to tell me,” Hecate continued. “She was a traveling midwife who delivered children and cared for women, witches and not, all across Europe before settling in England, my aunt’s home specifically, to have me.”

Ada leaned forward, expressing interest without diverting the conversation. Hecate knew she had studied midwitchery in her college years and thought about becoming a midwitch herself before Alma brought her on to work as deputy under her at Cackles. She loved the idea of working with women during one of the most intense times of their lives. From all Hecate had learned in their years of sharing, she knew there was so much of Ada’s being that longed to feel useful when she was growing up. She was reassuring, patient, strong, kind and forgiving, all traits needed in the midwitching practice. 

Hecate finally allowed herself to look into Ada’s eyes, remembering there was nothing to fear. 

“There’s no telling who my father was,” she continued. “She never cared to keep in touch with the men in her life. Not that I can blame her,” she added, attempting to lend some lightness to the dark that was pouring from her now. 

Ada laughed modestly under her breath. Hecate was sure she wished she’d added her hatred of men to the list of things she knew about her friend. 

Hecate’s cheeks felt warm at the sound of Ada’s breathy laugh. She’s heard it many times over the years, sometimes on purpose when she made a rare joke or jab at one of the girls’ parents, other times quite accidentally at her expense. 

She remembered one summer when they were walking through Hollow Wood. Ada thought it was dangerous, but Hecate insisted that the hundred years since the last incident was enough time passed for them to survive. Twenty paces into the dense foliage and cavernous forest floor, Hecate’s dress caught on a thorny vine, tearing it open from hip to toe. She had blushed violently at how much skin was exposed, but Ada laughed heartily, openly, assuring her it was nothing. Her own face was pink as her sweater, eyes darker than most days, but the flick of a hand had the offending fabric repaired in a flash. 

Hecate shook away the memory, forcing herself to focus. 

“After she had me, she didn’t stop working. It was more than a passion for her. It was part of her coven’s mission. The other witches were spread all over the world. There were seven, if I remember correctly, all dedicated to protecting women and children.” 

Hecate ran her fingers down the chain of the pocket watch around her neck, finally landing on the timepiece itself. Her long nails tapped nervously on its design. 

She wore the watch every day. It was her mother’s. The day she graduated from the academy, Aunt M gave it to her as a gift. That much Ada knew from another fireside chat years ago. Hecate always reached for the talisman for comfort. It was something tactile she could use to ground her in moments of anxiety. 

“While she was in a nearby village giving a woman a checkup, one of the townspeople accused her of being a witch. My aunt said there were protective spells cast and even a disguise potion used when mother would go to help the woman there.” 

Ada looked down at the other witch’s long fingernails, still strumming nervously on the face of the watch, face screwed tight. Hecate looked up to see Ada regarding her. Something had changed in her expression that made her feel seen like Ada was hearing her story not just as colleagues, but as two women who cared about each other deeply. 

Hecate cleared her throat as she continued. 

“She knew the husband of a woman in her village was violent towards witches and had been successful in avoiding him until his wife was with child. My aunt said she was being reckless, but she was still a pregnant woman and my mother wanted to keep her coven’s vow.” 

Hecate’s breath hitched, knowing she was getting to the hardest part. Ada noted her discomfort and gave a gentle nod in her direction. 

“One night, the husband was out drinking at the tavern. A spell my mother cast alerted her when the woman went into labor. I was left with my aunt, as usual, but mother was gone for hours before the baby was finally born. My aunt knew something was wrong that night when she didn’t receive a bat telling her when she’d be back to collect me.” 

Ada was ringing her hands now, feeling the emotion empathetically. Hecate could see the tell-tale signs that her friend was reeling for her. She looked at Ada’s lips, too tired to conceal what her eyes greedily wanted to watch. Ada was nervously chewing them, and only stopped when she realized she had an audience. Hecate immediately turned her gaze back to her hands. 

“Aunt M brought me with her to look in on how my mother was progressing when she saw it,” Hecate started to tremble. The pain was persistently trying to bubble out, but Hecate forced it back down. 

Ada scooted her chair closer then, reaching out, slowly pressing her hand against the younger witch’s arm. 

“If this is too much...” she whispered. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to go on if it’s going to do you harm.” 

Hecate took a breath but didn’t try to evade Ada’s touch. 

“I’d prefer to just get through it.” 

“I’m right here,” Ada squeezed, and Hecate felt the warmth from her skin before she retracted, giving Hecate the space to continue in her own time.

“There was a large bonfire in front of the cottage. The woman’s husband came home after the baby was born. Drunk. He didn’t know his wife was receiving care from a midwife, and my mother forgot to use her disguise potion that night. In his drunken rage…he _attacked_ my mother,” her voice cracked. “She fought back, casting him out of the house with her magic. When he returned, he brought some other men from the village, all angered by the rage only small-minded, hateful men are capable of. They destroyed a nearby cart and started the fire to...” 

Ada was crying now. She knew everything about witching history and read books on the subject. Burning witches and other forms of torture were subjects they taught the students in later years so they would understand the value of freedom and know the importance of protecting themselves and their magical siblings. She tried to keep it in, biting her lip and straining her eyes at the tears threatening to fall, wanting to be the rock Hecate needed to keep going.

“The woman who had just given birth was carrying her child, crying, blood still visible on her nightdress from the hours of labor. She fell to her knees outside her home, begging her husband not to harm my mother.” 

Losing the battle against her emotions, two large tears formed in the corners of Hecate’s eyes, and with one blink they were shed. Her lips pursed for a moment as she attempted to control their quivering. 

“The men _took_ her and burned her at the stake. She tried to fight them off using her magic, but every spell she used in her defense enraged the mob more. The woman holding her infant did not know my aunt, but she escaped with her to safety. I was with Aunt M and the woman and her child, but while we were running away from the flames, I remember holding my aunt’s neck, seeing a golden blue flame erupt from the center of the fire. Then nothing. Everything was gone. She was gone.” 

Ada took Hecate’s shaking hand and held it in her lap, stroking her thumb over the back of her white knuckles. Using the other to dab at her own tears, she handed Hecate an extra handkerchief. 

Taking the offered fabric, wiping at her grief-stricken eyes and cheeks, Hecate continued. 

“My mother cared for that woman just as she cared for thousands of women before her, and one horrid man extinguished her light.” 

Hecate’s fingers wrapped around Ada’s, too exhausted and pained to fight the need to be closer. 

“After I mirrored you from the house I found two things. My aunt’s remains, and a letter she wrote to me.” 

Ada squeezed her hand then. 

“What did the letter say?” she asked with anticipation. 

“She told me… she said she loved me,” Hecate’s head dropped again, taking a moment to swallow back another sob. 

“Of course she loved you. How could she not?” Ada’s words clipped off at the end as if she were trying not to let that last remark incriminate her. 

“She helped put a few pieces of my life together that I didn’t realize was missing,” Hecate shared. 

The warmth from Ada’s touch crept up Hecate’s arm and into her chest. Her face felt flushed, which either meant the potion’s effects were lessening and her body was trying to reclaim its hold on exhaustion, or that their proximity was proving to be too much for too long.

“I think my aunt may have used the same incineration spell on herself that my mother did. There’s no real way of knowing, and I suppose it’s…neither here nor there, I’m afraid… but apparently she left me the entire witching ancestry of the Hardbroom line,” Hecate finished the last sentence as if it was the least important thing she’d said.

Ada sat still, shocked.

“She… what you mean to tell me…” The words were so close to forming on her lips, but it was too much to say.

“Yes,” Hecate seemed indifferent and shocked at the same time, but continued. “My mother put out her light to take the power away from her murderers, and my aunt, I think, knew she was becoming dangerous with her paranoid magic, so she must have thought…”

Tears came flowing once more. In trying to unpack why her aunt decided to take her own life, she realized that there might have been a chance to help her if she had called or visited more often. 

“Oh Ada, what if it’s my fault? If… if I was there, or mirrored in time… if I tried to push through the walls she built?” Hecate clutched Ada’s hands with both of her own, squeezing desperately, hoping for an answer.

“Hecate, listen to me. This isn’t your fault. You’ve done. Nothing. Wrong.” Ada was firm on the last two words, hoping she would be able to hear them through her devastation. “Your aunt was not well, and you couldn’t be expected to save her from her own mind.”

Ada pulled her hands away, replacing them a moment later around Hecate’s shoulders, bracing, their faces closer than they’d ever been. 

“Please, tell me you understand me, dear?” 

“I do, but… I just _left_ , Ada. I left. I went all the way there and… and she’s gone. Aunt M and Minerva are both gone.” 

Hecate fell into Ada’s open arms and finally allowed herself to completely unravel. Her body shook against Ada’s, clawing at her back, deepening the contact as she spent all of her remaining energy on expelling this desperate sadness. 

Ada magicked the armchairs away, replacing them with a single settee for both their comfort, pulling Hecate closer as they sat in front of the fire. 

“There, there. Let it out now. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Ada smoothed her hands over Hecate’s back, arms wrapping around her small, waifish figure. 

Hecate wept harder at Ada’s compassion, resting her head between her short, silver mane and her shoulder. Once her breath began to regulate, and Ada’s hands stilled against her spine, she sat upright, wiping at her eyes with the handkerchief. 

“I’m so sorry. I must look awful. And I’ve made a mess of your sweater.” 

“Nonsense. You look just as wonderful as always. All you need is a good night’s sleep,” Ada looked down at her sweater, wiggling her fingers as she cast a drying spell, before patting Hecate’s arm. 

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve a friend like you, Ada Cackle,” Hecate smiled genuinely through tears. 

 _Even if it’s all we’ll ever be,_ she thought somberly. _I’m grateful._  

“You didn’t need to do anything. I think we always would have been friends, even if we had never worked together. Don’t you agree?” 

Hecate smiled shyly, eyes stealing towards the fire. 

“I’d like to believe we would have been in each other’s lives no matter our paths but… well, I’m just glad we’re here.” 

Ada took Hecate’s hand in hers once more, cheeks still pink, lightening her voice. 

“I have an idea… if you’re interested in hearing it.” 

Hecate wasn’t really listening, but was able to tear her eyes away from their clasped fingers long enough to reply with a “Hmm?” 

“Why don’t we fly back to the house tomorrow and collect your witchcestry? We can bring back some ingredients from the house and garden, then when we return to the school, we’ll go to the woods and do a proper send-off for your aunt. How does that sound?” 

“I’m not sure,” Hecate shook her head. “It felt so utterly empty there. I don’t know when I’ll be able to go back.”

“That’s why I’ll be there! You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” Ada squeezed her hand again, and Hecate squeezed back. 

“But if we’re away over the weekend, what will keep the students from throwing the school into further, and dare I say, categorical, decline?” 

Ada’s eyes and mouth opened wide before throwing her head back in a boisterous laugh. She retracted her hand only to wrap it around her own waist as if she needed to hold herself in the middle for fear of laughing to pieces. 

New tears came to Hecate’s eyes at that moment, in the seconds of peace she was able to steal as she watched Ada double over at her attempted humor.

 _What could be more beautiful than this?_ She burned, heart flipping in its usual, stubbornly pleading manner.

“Alright,” Hecate stood from the settee, the decision made. Even if this was the stupidest decision I’ve ever made, she knew she needed to start living without regrets.

Ada wiped away the new tears that had come with her belly laugh, realizing Hecate was standing in front of her. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. I think it would be better to have you there than to go back alone, and I’m keen to learn more about my witchcestry now that I’m the… the last of my line.” 

Hecate’s hands were at her sides, fingers straight and spread apart, but curling up at her ring and pinky fingers. Ada looked down at them then. Hecate knew she could usually figure out how she felt about a situation just by looking at her hands, but combined with the current expression on her face, Hecate wasn’t sure Ada knew quite how to read her. 

“Well, then it’s settled. I’ll make arrangements for our coverage this weekend, but in the meantime, you must be absolutely exhausted!” Ada stood from the settee. “You’re more than welcome to stay here by the fire to rest if you wish.” 

“I should return to my rooms,” Hecate looked once more at the fire, then back at her friend. “Thank you, Ada. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ada stood by the warmth of the flames and watched Hecate transfer out of her office. She took a deep breath, shaking her head as she smiled.

Back in her own space, Hecate decided to forgo the Wide Awake reversal and submit to the natural rest her body desperately craved. She felt safe and warm in her bed, her familiar curled up at her feet. At long last, the weight of her story had been lifted, just by sharing it with Ada. Hecate closed her eyes, and she fell asleep, letting go of all the unanswered questions and work still to be done.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a knock at Hecate’s door sometime after the sun came up. Her dark eyes were heavy in the morning light, having cried so hard the night before. She felt like she’d had one too many witches brews, though she knew, rationally, that the cause of her hangover had nothing to do with such levity.

The knock persisted.

 _Damn and blast!_ She cursed beneath her breath, throwing the cover off as she jumped out of bed, realizing Ada was standing just outside the door. She’d forgotten to put on a nightgown before falling fast asleep, frantically trying to wake herself, nearly forgetting the steps needed to make herself presentable as she stood almost completely nude on the creaky wood floor.

“Just a moment!” Hecate shouted, heart racing as her skin blazed.

She dressed in her black leather housecoat in a flash and was at the door, leaving her long dark locks to fall around her face. She finally opened it, greeting her friend.

“I’m so sorry, Ada. It’ll only take me a few more minutes to…”

Ada was speechless. She looked at Hecate as if it were the first time she’d seen her so effortlessly radiant. Her hair fell in heaps around her face and on her shoulders, lips parted, cheeks pink from sleep, even if her eyes were slightly swollen. 

“Well, I… I mean, that’s quite alright. Good morning, Hecate,” Ada cleared her throat. She was all frayed edges and nerves. 

“I’m running a bit late it would seem. I slept so well last night, but I’m afraid I’m feeling the effects of all those tears,” Hecate blushed, giving Ada a shy smile. 

“I’m very glad you slept so well,” Ada beamed back. “You earned it after all.” 

“Have you eaten?” 

“No, not quite. I thought we’d pop down to Miss Tapioca before we head out on the long ride. Should I go ahead while you get ready?” 

“It should only take a moment, but yes,” Hecate nodded. “I shall meet you in the kitchens.” 

“Right-o,” Ada practically saluted, a bit awkwardly. 

Hecate turned back to the room as Ada took her leave, noticing in the mirror that the older witch was smiling at her turned back. New warmth surrounded her heart as Ada closed the door behind her. 

Hecate dressed quickly, opting for her two-piece black on black number with the buttons down the back. A few extra spells and she was dressed, clean, made up and ready for whatever the day had in store. 

 _It’s amazing what a good night’s sleep can do_ , she mused, fixing her sleeves. 

When she took a moment to consider her cheery disposition, she knew had nothing to do with the task at hand and everything to do with the company. Ada was willing to be with her during one of the hardest times of her life. She was willing to fly to her childhood home— _her_ home—to help honor her aunt. 

Hecate shook off the sentimentalities, not wanting to keep Ada waiting any longer. She smoothed her skirt and reached up for one more hair check, ensuring it was all tightly wound where it belonged.

After a brief and slightly awkward run-in with Miss Drill, during which she excused herself with vagaries, Hecate met back up with Ada in front of the school.

“Be thankful I convinced Miss Tapioca to pack us something slightly more appetizing than smoked kipper on stale bread for breakfast,” Ada laughed at herself. “I thought the occasion called for a meal more uplifting than yesterday’s leftovers.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Hecate smirked, donning her hat and cape as she bid her broomstick come to her. “Though I must say I am comforted in knowing you’re willing to go to fisticuffs with Miss Tapioca about kippers at my expense.” 

“Oh absolutely,” Ada batted her lashes facetiously, and Hecate was thankful their rapport appeared to be returning to its normal routine. “We should be on our way, don’t you think?”

The two witches stored their breakfast in the magical compartment that was the void of vanishment. They mounted their broomsticks, pointed hats and capes firmly in place, and gave a few gentle taps before they were airborne.

They flew over the vastness of the countryside, riding at a relatively close proximity, only a few arm-lengths away at most, slowing down just long enough to enjoy their breakfast above a field of sheep grazing on the lush, green meadows. The sun was getting higher and hotter by the minute, but the way it spilled its light over the hilltops, illuminating trees and towns as they continued their journey, was something neither witch would have missed.

* * *

Hecate took lead, flying quickly ahead to arrive above the tall, thin house on the cliff. As Ada approached, she could hear the faint sound of her friend breaking the protection spell she must have placed before departing. Hecate’s unique golden magic trickled from her palms, flowing gently over the house and property.

Ada had seen Hecate’s cascading golden spells many times over the years, but watching her now, with her head arched towards the sky, arms spread wide, she felt a tug at her heart. 

This was Hecate’s home now. She could leave the school, move here and practice potions without interruption if she wanted. The thought hadn’t occurred to her until that very moment, and suddenly, Ada was terrified. 

Hecate’s presence played an important role in every part of her life. The idea that Ada might wake up one morning and not start the day with Hecate there by her side broke her heart. Who would she share a celebratory sherry with on the last night of term? Who would she grade papers with during finals week by the fire? She didn’t want to strategize, poke fun of, or put out fires with anyone else. 

She watched as Hecate flew down to the garden and followed in time. They dismounted and sent their brooms to rest by the column, regarding the home in front of them. The bright blue sky was the perfect backdrop to fly in on, adding a sunny disposition to the flowers in the garden. 

“Shall we?” Hecate started up the path, Ada close behind. 

“It’s a beautiful garden, isn’t it?” Ada had always admired the look of an overgrown garden. There was something wild and rebellious about it that she appreciated, perhaps because of her own whimsical nature. 

She watched Hecate’s hips sway as they approached the front door, knowing better than to linger on her friend’s backside in that form-fitting skirt, but there was no one else around to notice, and sometimes, it was just too exquisite to ignore. 

Hecate opened the front door while Ada leaned into one of the unruly bushes to pluck some wildflowers. When she had a fistful, she went inside to find her companion. Hecate stood at the entrance, staring into the first floor. Ada could feel the stark change in the environment, bringing a somber mood when such cheer existed just outside. 

“How about I get these into water and open up the drapes?” Ada walked past Hecate, looking for a vase, determined to help make things brighter again.

* * *

Hecate watched Ada as she roamed from room to room, looking for ways to cheer up the place, when the truth was, the house was already beginning to fill with more life than it had held in years, just with Ada’s presence. Her spirit altered any space she inhabited. The Great Hall could be transformed from a room full of giddy schoolgirls to a silent chamber out of the respect they all had for her. A staff party could go from a throng of separate conversations to laughter and practical jokes at the expense of Morgana, just by Ada’s goading.

In the same way, Hecate’s family home, shuttered in decay and painful childhood memories, began transforming into a cluster of rooms brimming with life and possibility.

“There we are,” Ada strode back into the living room from the kitchen with the bouquet. “Should I put it here?” she asked, setting the vase next to the silver box by her aunt’s armchair, not knowing what it was.

“Yes, thank you. They’re lovely.” Hecate closed the front door, making her way further into the room while Ada started tying back the heavy black velvet curtains. Dust was covering most surfaces, and with every shake of the heavy fabric, more flew into the air.

“Aaa- aaaa- CHOOO!” Ada almost doubled over with a massive sneeze. “Oh, I beg your pardon. Excuse me. My allergies seem to follow me wherever I go.” 

“Wait,” Hecate grinned, disappearing into the kitchen where there was a wall of shelves that held most of the house potions and jarred ingredients. She found the bottle and atomizer she required and returned to Ada, spritzing three times, wafting the potion as the mist coiled, finally making it to its destination.

“Ah, much better. That was very considerate. Thank you,” Ada smiled. “Now, where would you like to start?”

“That is an excellent question,” Hecate tented her fingers, spinning a little as she looked around the room, wondering where to begin. The house held memories in every wall, on every stair, and around every corner. “My aunt’s remains are in there,” she pointed to the silver box next to Ada’s flowers. “And I buried Minerva by the cliff’s edge.”

Ada closed the distance between them, resting a hand on Hecate’s forearm. Hecate wanted to pull back, to create the distance she knew she needed to be able to compartmentalize and control the maelstrom of emotions one was bound to suffer after losing family. Her heart danced for a moment when Ada smiled at her, and Hecate turned her head slightly to regard the woman who clearly wanted to be of help.

Ada continued to scan her eyes over the room, looking for a way to make herself most useful.

“Would you like to pack a few things that you want to bring back, unless… if you were planning on staying, we could always get you…”

“Staying?” Hecate did pull away then, eyes wide with panic. “What do you mean? Am I not to return to Cackle’s with you?”

“It’s just,” Ada fumbled. “Well, I thought…I wasn’t sure since this is your home now…. I thought perhaps you were considering your options.”

“There is _no_ other option,” Hecate’s jaw turned to steel, hands balled into fists bound at her sides, shoulders squared. “ _Cackle’s_ is my home, Ada. This is just a house. Yes, I grew up here, but I couldn’t wait to get out. Did you really think I would ever leave yo… the girls, or my position as Deputy Head? I have devoted years working alongside you to run the academy. I cannot believe you think I would give up everything and move back here. Alone.”

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, Hecate,” Ada stepped closer again. “Please take no offense. I was only trying to be supportive of whatever path you might take. Hoping, I might add, that no change would truly…” 

“I’m _not_ leaving,” Hecate crossed her arms, fingers fluttering through the air. “I don’t know what to make of this house, but I’m not moving back.” 

“What if you kept it as a summer home?” Ada tried to lighten the mood again and continue to close their distance. “It would be such a wonderful place to get away during the winter holiday, too, don’t you think? You could get a nice warm rug to put by the fireplace, add a couple of chairs nearby for an inviting reading nook.” 

Hecate struggled to imagine coming back to this place for any sort of relaxation. After term times, the last thing she wanted was to return to this house as it meant periods of forced interaction with a woman who didn’t seem to care what she did as long as it didn’t involve being near her. 

“It would take some work,” Hecate admitted. “But I’m sure with your input it could be….nice.” 

Scanning the living room with analytical eyes, she noticed how dark and dingy it felt. The air was stale, making the forest green walls feel like she was trapped in a forgotten terrarium. There was a curio full of crystals and the bleached skulls of small animals, a few small side tables, a console table behind the settee with a Tiffany lamp and a bowl of dried flowers and twigs. All the furniture was dark walnut, carved and lacquered, a thin visible layer of dust coating everything. 

“You just need to vanish the items that don’t give you happy memories and bring your own taste to the rooms,” Ada suggested. 

“I don’t usually like to waste much time on frivolity, as you well know,” Hecate flared her hands by her side now, indicating the usual level of dissatisfaction.  “I’d be content with a thorough dusting at this point. Somehow, I fail to see the possibility of this room being anything other than what it is.” 

“I’m sure it’ll take some time to think of this place as yours, but that’s what it is. There’s a difference between modernist décor and blank walls, but I’m sure I’ll be able to help show you what it could be.” 

Ada’s optimism was met with a quirked eye. 

“I’ve never cared for the furniture. It doesn’t bring me comfort.” 

“Well, that’s something!” Ada perked back up. “What’s say we start right here, right now? I’ll hover items to you and you tell me what you think?” 

Hecate reluctantly complied, walking to one of the stiff, cushionless chairs by the window, signaling that she was ready and willing. 

Ada began moving pieces from all corners of the living room, and one at a time, the items Hecate wanted to store were magicked away. Everything she was ready to part with was sent to vanishment, and the pieces she wanted to keep were stacked in the far corner of the room. The crystals were set out on the windowsills to recharge with new intentions after who knows how long. Twenty minutes turned into two hours, at which that time Ada’s stomach began to grumble. 

Blue eyes met brown ones while Ada giggled with embarrassment only to be gifted a soft, reassuring smile in return. Hecate took hold of her watch, pressing the top to unlock the face, revealing exposed gears and hands informing her how late it had gotten. 

“Time seems to have slipped away from us. We should really get something to have for an early dinner. It would seem we worked right through lunch.” 

“Do you think there’s anything in the pantry?” Ada inquired. “It would be a shame to stop the progress now just for a grumbly tummy.”

“I’ll have a look, though I’m sure it’ll be tinned mushy peas and beans. If we’re lucky there may be some sardines.” 

Hecate made her way to the kitchen with Ada in tow, which felt new since she was usually the one just behind Ada’s shoulder. 

Dark cupboards lined the walls of the eggplant colored kitchen. There was an older refrigerator, a cream antique Aga gas cooker, and two tables, one along the wall, and the other in the center of the room. The table along the wall contained what looked like a steam distillation set, beakers, a cauldron, and a full assortment of containers with various ingredients. A pegboard hung nearby with pots, pans, kitchen tools and measuring cups as well as a few baskets with satchels of mysterious contents. 

“Now this is a kitchen,” Ada remarked with pure appreciation. “Miss Tapioca could learn a thing or two from this setup.” 

“I’m sure there’s a great deal Miss Tapioca could stand to learn, but my aunt’s kitchen is hardly the place. At least her meals are cooked all the way through. Aunt M had a habit of serving undercooked poultry for fear that it would be too dry. Complete disaster.” 

“Did you ever cook?” Ada asked, taking a seat at one of the tables, watching Hecate continue to search for anything that was edible.

“I would try my hand at it when she would leave town. She kept the house stocked so I had plenty of options to work with. I found cooking akin to potions. You experiment with ingredients and temperatures until something delightful, or in my case, palatable, happens.” 

Hecate realized she must have been rambling as Ada had fallen silent. She looked up to find her wrapt with listening, smiling back at her tenderly.

Hecate’s eyelashes fluttered inadvertently, and she turned to open the closest cupboard door.

“What’s through here?” Ada pointed at the door on the far side of the kitchen.

“That’s the door to the basement,” Hecate informed haphazardly while salvaging whatever she could to make a meal. 

“Would you mind if I had a peep while you rummage?” 

It appeared Ada could not resist the opportunity to dig through the Hardbroom family basement in search of anything that would add to the knowledge she already had of her dear deputy. After learning so much so quickly about the suffering she and her family had known, she clearly wanted to pitch in and see if she could uncover anything that would help bring Hecate some peace. 

“By all means,” Hecate stopped digging and watched while Ada rub her hands together with excitement, making her way to the door. 

* * *

Opening the entrance to the basement, Ada jerked at the inherently eerie creak that came from the joints. She peered into the darkness, smelling a damp mustiness and something that was particularly herbal. A string of lights dangled above the stairs and needed to manually be plugged in before being useful to anyone. She found the outlet, which revealed thick collections of spider webs accumulated from years of disrepair. Ada took a house broom that was resting beside the door frame, running it along the offending webs, clearing a path into the faintly lit room before leaning it against the wall at the foot of the stairs.

There were no windows and the floors were made of dirt. The house was built hundreds of years ago, and the changes that had been made through the decades were only to upgrade the plumbing and electrical. The basement walls were made out of stacked limestone and dusting cement, and while Ada wanted to feel the old stone foundation, she thought better of it. 

A simple illumination spell was cast, widening her view to reveal trunks stacked on one another, some wooden crates with straw peeking from around the rims, with some antique furniture in a far corner. 

There was an armoire, a dressing mirror on a stand with a cloth draped over it, and a rocking chair with a side table. Ada approached the far corner, gliding fingertips over the dusty leather trunks, no doubt from the seventeen hundreds by the looks of them. She fought her curiosity back if only for a moment to take in the whole space, but when she moved closer to the furniture she noticed it was set up like a small room. The side table held several leather bound books strapped together with an old belt. 

Ada leaned closer to the stack to read the spine of the top book. _HARDBROOM c. 1400 – 1600._ Her finger traced the gilded embossing with reverence. 

She reached for the cracked old leather strap to get a better look at the set when she felt a sharp pain on the back of her knee. She shifted quickly to see what she must have bumped into, only to find a mass of hissing snakes moving towards her. Ada screamed at the sight, shuffling backward to create more distance, only to find she’d backed herself into the furthest corner from the door.

* * *

Hecate appeared less than a second after hearing Ada’s scream, transferring to the basement, where she was met with abject horror. 

“Ada, are you alrig… oh god!” The mangled pile of snakes must have been her aunt’s last magical trap before anyone would have reached the books. “SMITHERINES!” she blasted through the swarm, spraying everything with horrid green ooze. She snapped her fingers while making her way to a rather traumatized Ada, removing any evidence of the pulverized remains of snakes coating the room moments before. 

“Oh Hecate, I’m so sorry!” Ada was out of breath and clutching her hand to the jewel on her black ribbon necklace, looking like she was on the verge of hyperventilating. “That was…I wasn’t expecting…” 

“You’re sorry?” Hecate’s eyes practically bulged. “I should be the one to apologize. When I was here last I must have forgotten to remove the remaining traps  I… I can’t believe I forgot. I am so terribly sorry, are you…are you alright?” 

“My leg,” Ada winced. “I think one of them took a nip while I was looking at these books. I do believe they’re your witchcestry! 

“As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, I don’t care about any of that right now. Are you feeling at all unwell?” 

Ada shook her head, though she still couldn’t catch her breath. 

“Why don’t you see if it looks alright?” 

“Here,” Hecate pulled out a rusted chair. “Have a seat while I take a look.” 

She knelt in front of Ada, her own instincts already telling her this was far from good. 

“Where did it bite you?” 

Ada’s hand reached down between her skirt, lifting it just enough to expose her shin and knee, having vanished her stockings a second before. Hecate could tell that Ada was shaking, either from the venom or the understandable fright of what had just happened. 

“Right here. It’s throbbing,” Ada pointed to the back of her knee, still unable to return her breath to its normal pace. 

Hecate scanned the offending bite, hoping it wasn’t what she thought it was. There were two angry marks with blood dotting the swollen openings and what looked like darkening veins and capillaries surrounding the wound. 

“I think whatever my aunt used by way of protection was not lacking in its intent to cause harm, so we can assume the snakes were venomous. I’m going to suck the venom out of your leg before it has a chance to do greater damage. Your breath is already unsteady, and I can see the poison spreading.” 

Ada bit her own lip, clearly in agony. She peered down at her friend with watering eyes, trying her best to stay strong. 

“Do what you must,” she nodded. 

“This will undoubtedly hurt.” Hecate moved the side table over so she could rest Ada’s heel on it and conjured a knife. Ada’s eyes shut tight, just in time to miss the deputy slicing a small X between the puncture wounds, more blood springing to the surface as a pained hiss escaped from between the headmistress’s teeth. 

“Ada, I’m so sorry,” Hecate grimaced, her own body reeling as she inflicted pain on the woman before her, however medicinal. 

Hecate turned Ada’s leg slightly so she had more room to latch on. She placed a delicate hand on either side of the wound before settling her open mouth around the cut. While her hands pinched Ada’s skin together, she sucked forcefully on the warm, pulsing bite, only stopping to spit the contents on the floor and repeat the process. By the eighth spit, Hecate saw the modest pool of blood, venom, and saliva next to her, hoping it had made a difference. 

“Thank you,” Ada shivered. 

“Don’t thank me just yet. We still need to get you upstairs and apply some anti-venom to this wound. Then I think we should try to get back to the school right away.” 

“Why would we do that? We’ll be fine right here,” Ada reached out, resting a hand on Hecate’s shoulder. “You’ve already taken such good care and obviously know just what to do. I really don’t want you to make a fuss.” 

“A fuss?” Hecate stood up straight. “You think I’m making a fuss after an enchanted and potentially deadly snake has poisoned you?” 

“No, no, I only mean to say that we came here…” 

“I know what we came here to do, and once I find what I need to make the salve, we’re leaving. Please do not attempt to persuade me otherwise.” 

Hecate walked over to the covered mirror, tearing a piece of the cloth off of it, walking back to Ada. Kneeling once more, she tied the tourniquet appropriately around the bloody area, leaving her hand on her leg to apply pressure. 

“I’m sorry,” Hecate shook her head. “I’m not cross, I… that scared the life out of me, that’s all.” 

Hecate hated to admit she’d been afraid, but there was no sense in attempting to appear that she was less shaken than she was in that moment. She sighed heavily, continuing to hold onto Ada’s leg as she looked up into her beautiful sapphire eyes. 

“Well, I’m sorry too,” Ada leaned forward, placing her hand on top of Hecate’s. “I only wanted to be a help to you, and now we have to go back because I got into a spot of trouble.” 

“I should have remembered to complete the disenchantments,” Hecate shook her head again, even as a small, automatic smile crept over her lips. 

“Well then, I suppose it’s settled,” Ada brought her unoccupied hand to her heart so she could feel how rapidly it was beating. 

Hecate disengaged only to gently help Ada lower her leg back down to the ground. She removed the old belt from the stack of books and strapped it tightly above the knee to help slow blood flow and decelerate the spread of remaining poison before lowering her skirt. She felt a rush when her knuckles slid down Ada’s thigh, hoping the inhalation she heard did not come from her. 

“How about we relocate to the library?” Ada recommended. “There was a book that held spells for antidotes and cures if I’m not mistaken.” 

Hecate held her hand out to help Ada stand. The headmistress was unsteady and tried to right herself, only to lose her balance into Hecate’s arms. 

“I’ve got you,” Hecate assured. “You’re going to have to rest.” 

With a turn of her wrist, Hecate transferred them directly to the library, placing Ada down on the settee, the book they wanted appearing in her hand. She opened it to a yellowing page containing the anti-venom salve, looking for the ingredients list among the ornate illustrations. 

“Beeswax skimmed from an aging hive, hawthorn root, ground fine, mulled blackberry picked from the vine, apple cider vinegar, and sliver of bee sting,” she read, shutting the book and placing it on the table before them. “I think we have most of the ingredients here, but there’s something written here about salve not being the cure. It’s should help delay the effects, but… I… I’ll be back in a moment with the ingredients, alright?” 

“Of course,” Ada nodded bravely. 

“Don’t let your leg go above your heart,” she instructed. “It moves the remaining poison along.” 

“Mind you, I don’t think my leg can go that high without assistance,” Ada laughed wryly. 

Just as the words left her cheeky lips, they both blushed. 

Hecate quickly exited the room, leaving Ada to look over the extensive library. There must have been thousands of books from floor to ceiling. Ada flicked one over to her that had a navy blue fabric cover with gold embossing. It looked like a custom job. 

She ran her fingers over the spine, noting a gold embossed flower where the title was usually placed. The front of the book read, _Practical Potions for the Wild and Winsome Witch by M. Hardbroom._ Opening the book to the acknowledgments page, Ada brought her hand to her mouth when she saw, “For H.” The next page held a short note of purpose from the author that read, “Witches seem to find themselves in dangerous situations more than most. This book is meant to serve as a collection of recipes for evading disaster. The ingredients are common and easy to find for any foraging witch and combined with a passion for witching tradition, this text could serve as a guidebook for surviving a non-magical society.” 

Hecate transferred back in a flash, holding everything needed to make the salve along with a mortar and pestle. 

“That wasn’t as hard as I thought,” she preened, running her hands down the front of her skirt after setting everything on the table. “What did you find?” 

“I didn’t know your aunt was an author. This one stuck out with its beautiful cover, and I noticed who wrote it.” 

Ada offered her the book, and Hecate took it, opening it to the same page Ada had, running her long nails over the letter H.  

“I haven’t seen this in some time,” she swallowed. “She wrote this when I went to school. After my mother died, she didn’t really know what to do. She eventually landed on writing a text that could be shared with young witches like me to help if ever they were in danger. I suppose writing and researching became her contribution to the craft.” 

Hecate closed it once more, enjoying the feeling of the fabric between her fingers. 

“I’ll bring this one back with us. I know just the student to lend it to,” she smiled, setting the book on the table next to them. 

“What can I do?” Ada asked, inspecting the ingredients Hecate laid out. 

“Not much I’m afraid. How are you feeling?”

“Weak, but fine overall.”

“Please tell me you brought lemon drops with you?”

“It would be a first if I didn’t. Good reminder.”

Ada popped one between her lips, clearly enjoying the first sugary moment followed by the intense bitterness that awakened her whole mouth and face. 

Hecate added the hawthorn root first, grinding and smashing along the walls of the marble mortar for a few minutes until a fine powder developed. She added the bee sting and drizzled apple cider vinegar in until it resembled a paste. Next were the blackberries picked from a bush along the back of the house, added one by one until they were mulled with the other ingredients. Last but not least was the beeswax. She took a dark glass jar, removed the top, and dipped a long spoon in, scraping the edges. When she pulled it out, it was covered in what looked like butter. Dropping a dollop in, Hecate combined the final ingredient, mashing and mixing until the salve was ready.

“It may not look like much, but I think this should help,” she offered the bowl to her friend. 

“Would you mind applying it?” Ada asked a bit sheepishly. “I’m not sure I want to see the bite.” 

“Not at all,” Hecate set the bowl down, preparing a dressing station on the table in front of the settee, continuing to act as if this were simply her duty, while her own heart raced, the skin beneath her thick dress perspiring more than she would ever have admitted. “Would you mind lifting your skirt for me? 

Ada reached down for the fabric on her knees, pinching with both hands until it piled up on her lap. Her skirts were heavy and layered, hidden beneath the edge of her jumper. She found the heavier material stayed in place when she flew, having learned the hard way many years ago in a lighter dress. 

“Here we go,” Hecate released a deep, nervous sigh, not realizing the air would land on Ada’s exposed thigh. She could have sworn she heard another sharp inhale from Ada, but ignored it as best she could, needing to get back to the task at hand. 

Hecate untied the cloth from her leg and scooped the reddish-brown paste into her hand, tilting Ada’s thigh open wider so she could see the backside of her knee.  She nearly gasped at the shocked of what she saw but kept her emotions in check. The wound was now purple and black. The veins were raised, spreading outward, and there was something oozing from the center. Hecate slathered it with the salve, hoping they’d be able to make it back to the school before it got any worse. She took a thick measure of cloth and gauze, carefully covering the wound once more. 

“Tsssssss! Ohhh that stings! How’s it looking, doctor?” Ada asked, biting her lip. 

“Not good, I’m afraid. We’d better set out if we want to get you seen by the school medic before nightfall,” Hecate tried and failed to keep the worry out of her voice. 

“How bad is it, Hecate?” 

“It should be helped by this antidote, and if we leave now, we’ll be able to get you some professional assistance.” 

“That’s not what I asked,” Ada held onto the belt that was restricting circulation, staring at the taller woman, waiting for an answer. 

Hecate brought her fingers to the watch around her neck, nervously tugging at the chain. 

“It looks like the skin is becoming necrotic and spreading,” she averted her eyes to the floor. “We need to leave. Now.” 

“Thank you for your honesty,” Ada continued chewing her lip. “I don’t think I should use my magic if I’m infected. Will you please transfer me to our brooms?” 

“Of course. Just sit here for a moment while I get everything ready for us. I’ll transfer you as soon we have what we need.” 

Ada nodded, covering her legs with her skirt once more and leaning back on the settee to rest up for their journey. 

Hecate was trying not to fall to pieces. _What would happen if Ada never got better? What if she loses her leg or her magic or…?_ She was spiraling and knew she needed to pull herself together in time to boost she and Ada home. 

In a matter of minutes, Hecate had packed the witchcestry from the basement and the book for Mildred. The broomsticks were hovering at the front step, and all she needed was Ada. Hecate transferred her friend into a chair on the deck to ease the transition from place to place, only to find that Ada was now asleep. 

Walking over to the chair, Hecate jokingly whispered, “Your chariot awaits,” waiting for a response that never came. “Ada,” she said a little louder. “Wake up. Ada!” she began to panic, shaking Ada until she finally stirred.

“Where… Hecate, what’s happ…ening?” Ada could barely keep her eyes open long enough to make contact before closing them again.

Hecate lifted Ada’s skirt, enough to see that the bandage was soaked through with blood, and her leg was turning an even deeper shade of purple. 

There was no time to waste. Hecate gathered Ada in her arms with the help of a levitation spell. She moved their brooms together, placing a binding spell on them that would create a platform on which to hold Ada. With Hecate firmly positioned towards the tail of the brooms, she cradled Ada in her arms, legs pointing in the direction of home. Ada leaned against Hecate’s chest, and Hecate held the injured witch close to her with one arm wrapping around her shoulder and side. Three taps to the sticks and the two were airborne.

“Don’t worry, Ada,” Hecate whispered. “I’ve got you.” 

The sun was setting over the cliff’s edge as they began their journey, and Hecate wished she could show Ada the beautiful glow it cast. 

Looking down at the woman in her arms, she smiled and kissed her forehead, repeating, “I’ve got you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Hecate could feel her strength deteriorating as she clutched Ada to her own body over the treetops. They were getting close to the school, but it was dark and growing cooler outside by the minute. She pressed her cheek to Ada’s forehead for the sixth time in the last hour, noticing her fever increasing as her body tried to fight the poison. 

“We’re almost there. Please try to hang on,” Hecate squeezed Ada impossibly close, trying to use what little heat she could radiate to help warm her skin.

She could finally see Cackle’s coming into view with the help of the light from the town below. Hecate released a sharp breath of relief knowing that she’d soon not be the only one able to help. Though Dimity, Gwen, and Algernon were not as advanced as she or Ada, they would still be able to assist their colleague. Resting her chin on the top of Ada’s head, she tried to add a little boost to the broom while holding back tears. 

Hecate dove through a patch of clouds, casting her hands into a transference spell the moment they were close enough to the school to make it to Ada’s room. Her nerves must have been at their record height, interfering with the precision of her magic, because the spell had landed them directly into Hecate’s bed. She quickly rose from her prostrate position, turning to face Ada. She was very pale, sweat forming on her brow. 

Hecate leaned in, hovering her hand above Ada’s mouth as she felt for her breath. It was faint, but it was there. Hecate decided she could not waste time trying to transfer again to Ada’s room. Whatever needed to happen to restore her health would happen here and now. Resting her cheek on Ada’s brow, she could feel how clammy and warm she’d become.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t you leave me.”

Hecate smoothed the silver hair down the side of her face before transferring herself to the medic’s office. 

“Is anyone here!? Miss Cackle needs medical attention immediately!” There was no answer. “Someone!?” Hecate’s voice cracked with desperation. 

Flicking her wrist once more, she was outside of Dimity’s rooms. Knocking quickly on the door, she shouted “Miss Drill! Open up!”

Dimity answered the door, rubbing one eye with her fist, wearing a baggy shirt that reached her knees. 

“Giddy bats! What’s this, HB? I thought you lot wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.” 

“I don’t have time to explain, but Miss Cackle is injured and I can’t find the medic. Please find them and send them to my room immediately.” 

“Your room? What’s happened?” 

Hecate withdrew in whip-crack speed, returning to Ada’s side without responding to her colleague. The minutes were too precious to be away from her a second more than necessary.

She looked at Ada’s still frame in the center of her bed. She was small and pallid, without her usual glow or vigor. Her lips were thin, perspiration beading on her forehead from the fever. Hecate reached out for Ada’s skirt, needing to check if the wound had worsened.

“Oh, Ada, no.”

The injured leg was enveloped in a veiny bruise reaching beyond where Hecate chose to look. She removed the belt, hearing the loud clunk of the buckle on her bed frame as it dropped away. The strap left an indentation on Ada’s leg that Hecate tried to soothe with her delicate hand before removing it, only to clutch the heirloom around her neck.

She sat at the edge of the bed and took Ada’s hand in hers, feeling the diminishing pulse. _It’s too weak._ The sound of her watch was as loud as her heartbeat, counting the precious seconds passing by.

“Ada, you’re going to need to wake up for me,” Hecate begged the unconsciousness woman beside her, stroking her face. “Please, please wake up for me.” 

Tears began to shed without thought as Hecate continued talking, begging her to be all right, burying her fingers in a tangle of silver hair. She’d always loved Ada’s hair. It was smooth and effortlessly straight, unlike her own unruly locks, which she took pains to tame daily. 

“I’m not sure when the medic will be here, but I know they’ll arrive soon. I just need you to hold on for me. Please. There’s… I have so much to say, Ada. You need to wake up so we can talk because, well… I’m awfully fond of you… and there’s just so much you should know if you’ll please…” 

Hecate fell forward onto Ada’s shoulder, whispering, her throat straining. 

“Wake up, darling.” 

It was no use trying to catch her breath as she continued to pour her heart out. “You wanted to help me with the house, didn’t you? I’m going to need you to help me make it a home. I’d never be able to bring your joy to it…your love. Please, please, wake up!” 

Morgana jumped up to the bedside to see what all the fuss was about, nudging her mistress’s leg with her soft head. 

“Begone, Morgana!” Hecate cried. 

The familiar padded back over to the center of the night table, lying down and dragging her paw over the edge. She flexed her limbs, stretching casually while Ada’s life hung in the balance. Morgana finally began scratching at the edge of the nightstand, leaving claw marks along the side of the dark wood. 

Hecate looked up from the nook she had made in Ada’s arm and side, directly into her familiar’s shining green eyes. The cat continued to scrape the drawer when Hecate finally realized what she was trying to tell her. 

She sat up, letting go of Ada’s hand only long enough to open the table, plucking out the vial of flowers she kept there. Holding them reverently with both hands, her fingers traced the contents, hoping against all hope that they would save the woman she loved. 

There was no Cackle’s, no adventure, no happiness, and no home without Ada in it, of that she was sure. If it meant throwing everything away to bring her back to health, even if her feelings were never reciprocated, it would all be worth it. 

A world without Ada in it was no world she wanted to be part of. She had known a life without Ada for so long, but their relationship had evolved so much in the many years they had known each other, she could hardly remember a time when she didn’t want to be right by her side. 

The optimistic side of Hecate wanted so badly to believe that her feelings weren’t unreturned, but the realistic part feared what would happen if she showed Ada how she really felt. Going from friends to lovers didn’t always work out. She knew that all too well, but when two people knew each other the way she and Ada did, it was all worth the risk. 

Ada was worth everything. 

There was still no sign of Dimity or the medic and now was as good a time as ever to take drastic measures. There was no way of knowing the lasting effects of the poison because Hecate’s aunt wasn’t there to ask.

“Ada, I…I hope you can forgive what I’m about to do, but… I… I don’t see how there’s any other way,” Hecate took her hand once more, speaking through hushed tears. “Know that whatever happens next…I love you, Ada Cackle.” 

Hecate released her grip, removing the top and placing the bottle next to Ada’s injured leg. She had kept the flowers beside her for a lifetime, not knowing their purpose until this very moment. She stood beside the woman she loved, bowed her head reverently, and with every ounce of magic left within her body, began to chant. 

“By all that I see and all that we are, our connection remains no matter how far. For better or worse, in sickness and health, I give you my strength. I give you my self.”

A surge of abundant gold sprung from Hecate’s heart and palms, flowing like a fountain over Ada’s body and the blue flowers, which spun their brilliant cobalt luster, mingling with the power of Hecate’s spell. She closed her eyes, head angled toward the sky, pulsing another round of magic, repeating her chant. 

The flowers escaped the vial just as the last wave of gold poured from Hecate. They arranged themselves above Ada’s body, and one by one, burst like fireworks, their blue, ethereal glitter settling into her skin, changing the color from deep purple back to her usual pale shade. The final flower beside Ada’s knee erupted, swirling together with Hecate’s magic in a tight coil, plunging into the origin of the wound, healing it until it looked as if nothing had ever happened. 

Dimity and the medic transferred to Hecate’s room just as her magic was running low, the abundance of her power dwindling as if someone had suddenly turned off a faucet. Hecate cried out and doubled over, landing on her knees beside the bed. 

“Hecate! What’s happened?” Dimity shouted, rushing to her side. “Ada, are you alright?” 

Hecate was depleted and undeniably out of breath, gasping for air like she’d been trapped under water. Her back fell and rose dramatically against the bed, forehead leaning on the covers until she finally looked up and opened her eyes. She reached for Ada’s wrist. Her pulse was back to normal, but she was still not awake. 

“There was a poisonous snake… I… she was bitten and… we flew back… the flowers…” Hecate’s thoughts and words were betrayed by her weakened state. Somewhere between her brain and her mouth, the message was scrambled. 

“Whoa there! Take a sec, HB,” Dimity put her hand on Hecate’s back, trying to help calm her down. She pointed the medic towards Ada’s still body. “Why don’t you see if you can make yourself useful and give Miss Cackle the once-over.” 

Ada’s hands were clasped just under the swell of her breasts, glasses resting on her nose, and Hecate couldn’t tear her eyes away. Dimity helped Hecate up from the floor and sat her in the chair by the bed. 

“Listen, I’m not sure what you just did, but if there’s anyone who could save Ada, it’d be you,” Dimity assured. 

“Her heart rate and blood pressure are reading normal. Temperature is tiptop, and her pupils are reacting normally. She just seems to be in a deep sleep,” the medic retreated toward the door. “If you’d like, I can come by again in an hour and check vitals, but I’d say we have two choices - call in an emergency doctor or wait for her to wake.” 

“Thanks. I think we’ll take it from here and ring if we need you,” Dimity opened the door while trying to anchor Hecate, closing it behind when the medic was gone. 

Hecate’s breathing was starting to regulate, but she didn’t know what else to do for Ada. She watched the rise and fall of her chest, wanting so badly to wrap herself around the older woman and hold her until she regained consciousness. She wanted to be enveloped by her, to breathe her in and see her, to taste and feel every part of her. It was a desire more intimate than making love. She wanted to be a part of Ada, if only for a moment.

Hecate’s mind tuned out Dimity trying to soothe her only to recall something she remembered Mistress Broomhead imparting _._

 _There’s nothing more powerful in this world than being faced with losing the thing you love most._  

Long fingernails dug into the soft flesh of Hecate’s palms, fists squeezing at the intangible fear and the cloying sound of Dimity’s voice. 

“I broke the Witch’s Code,” Hecate admitted. “I… I did the only thing I could think of to… to save her. The poison spread so fast and she… suddenly she just… I held her and we flew here… and the flowers healed me once, so I thought…” 

Hecate spoke quickly and in spurts, trying to get it out. Every few words, she would gulp in a breath before coughing out another part of her confession. 

“I’m sure this is making sense to you, but I’m completely lost over here.”

Hecate stopped looking at Ada only long enough to give Dimity a deliberately empty stare. She was about to start from the beginning, to recount every motion she made in the house leading up to the basement, when suddenly Ada coughed, trying to sit up. 

“Ada! Are you alright?” Hecate sprung up from the chair, settling beside her on the bed, reaching out around her shoulder, seizing one of her forgiving hands with the other. 

“I knew you’d save me,” Ada looked into Hecate’s eyes, cupping her cheek. A moment ago she was lying comfortably in a dreamless sleep. There were voices in what sounded like an echo chamber, catching particles of words, hearing them reverberate in her mind. She could make out two of the three voices, but the only one she cared about right now was the one watching over her with the most tender look on her face. 

“I think it’s time I let you two… talk,” Dimity knew when it was best to take her leave. 

Neither Ada nor Hecate seemed to even realize Dimity was ever in the room, but now that she was gone, the energy changed between them. Hecate let her face be held by Ada, leaning into her warm palm. Ada felt the heat radiating off of Hecate’s shaking body while being held. Their lips were close enough to feel their breath mingling. 

“Please tell me you’re alright,” Hecate begged, eyes full of hope, wide at the promise that her hard work and spent magic weren’t for naught. 

“I feel better than I have in years! I can feel the blood and magic flowing through my veins! I don’t know what you did, but I wish you’d done it ages ago!” Ada hunched, dipping her head, releasing a hearty laugh that shook the entire bed. 

Hecate smiled through misty eyes, unable to deny how contagious Ada’s laughter was, but she could not begin to fathom how she could confess the method she’d employed to save her. She felt sick to her stomach, the usual, pleasant butterflies she enjoyed instead feeling like they were attempting to escape in every direction. 

“So what was it then? A recovery spell of some kind, or did you find another anti-venom?” 

Ada’s guessing only made Hecate’s anxiety grow. She released Ada’s shoulder, slouching a bit at how afraid she was. She could feel a tingle at the base of her neck from a bead of hidden sweat trickling down her hairline. Adrenaline continued to pump through her veins from the commotion, and all she wanted was the one thing for which she did not have the courage to ask. 

Ada, meanwhile, looked radiant. Her skin was glowing with free-flowing magic zipping beneath her skin. Her back was straight, shoulders strong, and her eyes were twinkling behind her spectacles. As much as Hecate wished she could simply enjoy the moment, allow them to sit with this miracle and all that it entailed, she knew she needed to speak. She owed Ada that much. 

“It was a binding spell,” Hecate practically whispered into the covers. 

“I’m sorry, dear, could you say that again?” Ada lifted Hecate’s chin with her thumb and index fingers. 

“I… well there’s no easy way of saying it, but… I bound myself to you through the healing powers of the enchanted flowers I’ve kept since I was a child. I’m so sorry, Ada, but it was the only…” 

“Hecate,” Ada grabbed Hecate’s hands, trying to still and silence her panic. “Hecate stop, please.” 

“I did it even though I knew it was against the Code.” 

“In matters of life and death, you know I’ve always thought the Code was better than a doorstop,” Ada smiled kindly, watching Hecate’s features began to lighten. “So… we’re really bound to each other now, then?”

“The spell I used was powerful,” Hecate swallowed. “It was meant to revive you by giving you a…. a piece of myself. Like a rejuvenating surge of magic.”

Ada wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself. “Well. That explains why I can feel you. It’s like…it’s like you’re right here.” Ada’s fingers ran down her forearms, tickling her own skin. 

“I’m sure I can find another spell to unfetter us, but it might take…” 

“Why in heavens would I want to do that?” Ada’s eyes went wide. 

“Be… because we’re _bound_ now, Ada,” Hecate stammered. “And it’s not your average binding …it’s an… it’s a rather intimate connec…” 

“I know what a binding spell is,” Ada interrupted, the apples of her cheeks red with life and color, eyes sparkling and dark. “Perhaps we should talk more about this tomorrow. I’m feeling wonderful, but that’s probably because I have the magic of a powerful witch running through my veins. You, on the other hand, must be exhausted.” 

Binding spells were exceptional in that there were seemingly endless variables that made the bond unique based on whether the connection was between animal, vegetable or mineral. A bond created between anything living held a level of intimacy, but none more intimate and complex as when two witches united. 

Witchlore had it written in ancient scrolls how the depth of the connection results in the strengthening and restoration of life. Witches were able to replenish plants and trees as well as bring life to someone who was on the brink of elimination. The side effects of these spells varied from connection to connection, with two witches occasionally not realizing the intensity of their bond until decades later.

Hecate found herself running through everything she knew about such spells in her head as if pulling the knowledge from the depths of her memory would somehow make what she had done any easier to swallow. 

She nodded reluctantly, removing herself from Ada’s path while Ada swung her legs over the side of the wrought iron frame, planting her feet on the floor with a thud, regarding the woman who had saved her with an intentionally long look. Hecate stood perfectly still, arms bent at the elbows, not knowing entirely what to do with her hands. She tried not to notice how Ada’s dress had ridden up when she shifted herself, bare, healthy legs she now knew all too well resting on her covers.

Ada surprised her as she jumped off the bed, grabbing Hecate’s shoulders in a tight embrace, and a jolt of energy with her own signature surged through the younger witch, igniting a thunderstorm of feelings below her waist. She was much too warm, the feeling of Ada’s proximity, her smell, her touch setting her aflame. Hecate knew there was an excess of her own magic running through Ada’s bloodstream, and no matter how temporarily it might mingle with her headmistress, it was driving her senses mad.

“Thank you again, Hecate,” Ada beamed at her like the midday sun in the middle of August, full of warmth and promise. She leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks, not backing down or flinching for a moment.

Hecate stared, agape, into Ada’s pointed eyes, now twinkling and brilliantly blue. The heart of her smile drew Hecate closer as her mind fought the urge to dive in. She could still feel the kisses Ada pressed to her now pink cheeks, begging her skin to commit the sensation to memory.

“Of course,” Hecate practically whispered, looking down at the floorboards as she patted Ada’s arm, taking a few steps towards her desk. She needed distance before her body betrayed her, telling the story playing out in her mind. “I hope you rest well.” 

“Rest? I could best the Star of the Sky right about now!” 

“As much as I believe you, I hope you’ll reconsider until tomorrow. I’ve already almost lost you once today, I’d hate to see Miss Drill threaten a second time.” 

Hecate tried to find lightness in her tone, but her clothes were suffocating her, making her skin itch as if she’d stepped on an anthill. Discomfort painted her brows, and although Ada was giddy with possibility, she could surely recognize Hecate’s uneasiness. 

“No need to worry, Hecate. I’m going straight to bed. I’d like to say I’ll try to rest, but I think your magic will keep me up half the night,” Ada cheeked, apparently unable to resist teasing the woman she was casually bound to. 

Hecate wore the scandalized feeling in her expression as Ada sauntered past, lowering her voice, brushing against her arm. 

“I look forward to hearing more about our adventure tomorrow,” Ada shared. “Good night, Hecate. Do get some rest yourself.”

“Night,” Hecate barely choked out, collapsing at her desk, burying her head against her arms the second she was alone.

* * *

Ada transferred from Hecate’s room then, arriving in her own. She brought her hands to her open mouth, leaning against the heavy door. 

Being so close and yet so far from the one thing she’d always wanted was excruciating. Her scalp tingled, a reminder of the other woman’s power bounding inside of her.  It was erotic, and comforting, knowing how connected they were, even if it would only last for a little while. 

She walked over to her wardrobe and hung up her dress and jumper, stopping to look at herself in the mirror. Ada’s eyes glistened back at her, a sparkle of hope and titillation from such excitement. She could see the immediate effects of the spell in her radiating skin and warm glow, but the indescribable feeling of Hecate’s connection was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. A thin, modest nightgown covered her rejuvenated form as she made her way over to Pendle sitting on her bed. She gave him a scratch behind the ears before getting under the covers.

Binding spells had fascinated Ada when she was in college. She wrote a paper in her first year hypothesizing that the age of a witch entering a bound connection directly correlated with the side effects they felt. The older the pair, the faster they would feel the bind, and the stronger the side effects were. In younger pairings, while the bond would grow over time with proper care, it could slow the potential strength of the other. Her critique on previous studies concluded that older witches were able to have far greater life expectancies with extremely slow declines in health. 

Ada stretched out under the weight of the comforter, enjoying the light tickle on her tender skin. It felt like Hecate was so close even though she was on the other side of the castle. Her fingers ran up her body slowly, tempting the skin she touched. As much as she wanted to dull the pleasant ache between her legs, sleep was calling her to rest. 

When she finally closed her eyes, Ada felt the bliss of knowing her bond would be with her when she woke.

* * *

Hecate stood by the bed once occupied by Ada. The cover and sheets already somewhat disheveled, she reached up and peeled them open, revealing the warm nook Ada had left behind.

She took her clothes off at long last, needing to be free in her space. The help of a tiny bit of magic settled her garments on their hangers. Her thin-strapped, black nightgown drifted over her naked form, and she sunk into the remaining warmth found beneath the covers. She pushed herself deep into the mattress, longing to relish in the residual heat left by Ada’s body. 

Hecate’s index finger rubbed her thumb, rolling invisible beads of magic between the digits. It was a habit she started when she stopped trimming her nails. The length of them got in the way of so many things she used her hands for. Making a fist had a sharp consequence on her palm, but what she savored was the feminine feeling they brought her. They may have looked severe, but nothing felt softer than a handful of talons being dragged down her own exposed skin. 

Running the tips of her nails up her arm, nipples hardening under the black silk, she was keenly aware of how close she was getting to the point of no return. The rush and fear of almost losing Ada, combined with being able to share such an intimate bond with her, knowing a part of her was with the one she loved on the other side of the castle - it was enough to make her, for once, _want_ to lose control. 

She touched herself routinely and shamelessly, knowing her power was maintained by letting everything go, recharging and surging. Tonight she knew she didn’t have the strength to deny or even tease herself. There were evenings she would return to her room, wet and wanting, having been all but sewn to Ada’s side throughout the day, needing to bury two fingers into her slit, using a pillow to stifle the wanton breaths breaking from her throat. 

The night of Parent’s Evening was a prime example. She could feel Ada watching her all night, invisible to parents and pupils, but her imagination drove her mad. The idea of Ada being in a room with her unseen, watching every move she made, being able to do things while watching that no one would see. It made Hecate clench at just the thought. 

Hecate dipped two fingers between her lips, feeling her warm, wet folds, throbbing and bringing her heart and mind to a focused point of pleasure. Letting go of the day and all of its stress and trauma, she could focus on the remaining gold in her veins, pumping through her heart, traveling faster and faster, flowing out of a wicked finger where it tingled and vibrated on her clit without warning. A sharp inhale escaped into the night, in the silence of her rooms with nothing but the stars illuminating the power she felt at her own hand. Hearing her pleasure sent her further towards the finish line. The thought of Ada, who could very well be in the room with her without her ever knowing, made her thrash her head on the pillow. 

Biting her lip, she spread her thighs open wider, breath ragged, one name coming to her lips, one face in her mind’s eye, one soft goddess with strong hands and a wicked tongue bringing her to the height of pleasure in her mind and body before exploding like a wave crashing against the rocks. She imagined Ada above her, thrusting her thick fingers into her core while kissing her hard nipples, calling out Hecate’s name while she watched her unravel. 

The wet, hot walls of her cunt gripped her delicate fingers as she came. Her body twitched as she slid them out slowly, letting exhaustion and pleasure carry her for just a second. Hecate tried to catch her breath, resting wet digits on her chest, feeling her heart pounding against her ribcage. 

She’d had decades of experience in self-pleasure, though one would never have known it. She was prone to experimenting with more than just potions when she was on her own, and she was, of course, usually on her own. Part of her connection to her craft was channeling the growing power within her and learning from it. She came to realize her magic had a multitude of characteristics – creative, disciplined, reactive, and undeniably sexual. 

Tonight’s indulgence felt different from others. It was fast and full of purpose, but now that she was coming down from such a high, she realized she felt like crying from happiness. She wanted to keep her connection with Ada. She wanted so many things, and now more than ever she felt like it could be within reach. 

Ada had been so sweet and playful tonight, even after she’d nearly died. Hecate whispered her fingers on now warm cheeks, digging into her memory to feel the illusion of Ada’s kisses. 

She sat up for a sip of water before falling back once more with a new terrifying realization. She had bound herself to Ada to save her life, but Ada hadn’t been able to consent. How could she have been so selfish when Ada almost died because of her? The flowers might have been the only option, but consent was explicit in the Witch’s Code, and she had no idea how Ada would react in the morning when she’d had the chance to think on the day’s events. 

Bringing the covers up to her chin, Hecate wondered if she’d be able to feel their bond now, to check in on how Ada was feeling. She closed her eyes and placed her left hand over her heart. Almost instantly, she could feel a second heartbeat join hers.

 _Ada_. After hours of monitoring her heartbeat closely because of the bite, she knew her current rhythm to be normal, restful even. _She must be asleep._

Hecate quickly disengaged, immediately missing the persistent comfort of Ada’s heart song. She smiled with her eyes closed in the darkness, knowing Ada was safe. 

There was such a storm living within her that Hecate wished she could contain. The fear of ruining her friendship with Ada made her sick to her stomach. _Perhaps some distance would be best._ Time on her own would give the proper opportunity to reflect on what occurred at the house. 

A few meditative breaths later, lying on her back, in her bed, she felt the one thing that would always be hers move and regenerate in her cells. Tomorrow would present new challenges, but for now, Hecate Hardbroom’s mind could only focus on one universal truth. 

She was part of a bonded pair.


	6. Chapter 6

Ada awoke the next morning, earlier than usual. She was surrounded by the plushness of her bed, comforter tangled between her limbs. The sun cast a warm hue through the window above her head, illuminating the cozy rooms as she woke further.

There was a noticeable change in her body and mind. She felt as if she were being held all over. She began to feel warmer the longer she was awake, plucking her glasses from her nightstand and throwing off her covers. Ada wasn’t ready to get out of bed just yet, though she was eager as she tried to explore her new self.

She realized she was smiling but had no idea why until she looked down at her bare legs, uncovered by her hitched up nightie. Not a mark or vein to be seen. No bite. No real sign of aging even. 

_Hecate._

The sudden realization that they were bound, connected, enchanted together perhaps forever, made Ada’s heart flutter with excitement. 

Pendle stood from the foot of the bed, stretching his lithe form out before twisting his head to cuddle back into the comfortable duvet. Ada began petting him absently, as she stared at the ceiling and continued to dream. 

It was no secret that she adored Hecate, but just how much, or how profoundly, was her secret to keep for these past several decades. It was the thought she curled up with by the fire each night, the thing that warmed her even when the fire wasn’t enough to make her feel less alone. 

Growing up, Ada had always been half of a pair. Her identity was wrapped up in the collective successes and failures of her twin sister. Even though she was raised to believe she was the elder of the two, Ada was usually made to feel like she was too good to be fun, while Agatha was tearing around school like a whirling dervish. The perception that her kindness was a weakness recurred throughout her life. All through her school years, more value was placed on her ability to build relationships and nurture the other girls in her cohort, while Agatha was praised for her charisma and strategic mind. 

One Halloween, Ada planned a formal candle-lighting ceremony with some classmates to honor the two-hundred-year anniversary of Cackle’s Academy. She worked with all the teachers so they could let the other students know what to do and what to wear that night without her mother catching on. In her robes and hat in front of the school, glasses perched on her round face, young Ada began the chant that would be repeated by every student, teacher, cook, and staff. The effect created a beautiful, ethereal stream of light in the sky, like the aurora borealis. As their song echoed through the forest, Ada could see tears flowing down her mother’s face while she smiled up at the sky. 

Everyone held an unlit candle as vibrant green hues lit up the darkness, when suddenly the loud crack of an explosion interrupted the ceremony, warping the soft light in the sky into a lightning bolt that came shooting down toward the students. Alma Cackle threw her arms up casting a protection spell, but a sliver of the bolt burst through, hitting the ground and exploding like shrapnel, lighting all of the candles at the ceremony. The headmistress knew who was responsible long before a shaken Agatha Cackle and Mona Spellbody slithered out from behind a far wall of the castle, holding a few empty jars of fireflies. 

Luckily no one had been injured, but Ada remembered feeling so diminished when her mother transferred away with Agatha and Mona and the students all went back inside, blowing out their candles along the way. She had worked so hard to make that evening special, and her sister came in and ruined it. 

Many years later, when she had fallen for a colleague she was paired up with at a witching leadership conference, she made the mistake of telling her sister in confidence how taken she was. Before the day was through, Agatha promptly invited the other witch out for drinks, and the rest was history. 

Ada knew how vindictive her sister could be, but she also knew that it was in her own nature to be patient, kind and forgiving. She chose to spend her time reading by the fire, Pendle always nearby, having tea on her own. The company of her own self became a reliable comfort, having decided to spend less time with her sister over the years, the stories she read inspiring her optimistic dream that someday she’d find a partner who saw her inner strength for what it was. 

Ada knew the moment she met Hecate that she didn’t want to share her with anyone else. Agatha was abroad once again, gallivanting through Italy with some much younger witch, and Alma was leading Cackles in her final year. Mrs. Cackle had all but handed the reins over to her daughter. Ada was interviewing candidates for Deputy Head, and Hecate’s CV looked too impressive not to consider. 

Hecate strode into the office that afternoon, head down, looking pale and thin as she held the watch around her neck. After closing the door, she looked up at Ada and smiled with a shy, inquisitive glint in her big brown eyes. Ada was well schooled in controlling her reactions to beautiful women by then but had to admit a jolt of excitement caused her to spring up from behind the desk and walk around to greet her guest with a “Well met,” a bow and a handshake. 

After talking together for what felt like half a day, they sat side by side near the fire, tea in hand, contemplating the opportunity of working together. Ada knew Hecate was far more regimented than she was when it came to discipline and order, but the balance that would bring to her own strengths and weaknesses seemed like the perfect fit. Though she was attracted to Hecate, she vowed internally to keep a professional distance. Knowing how much was at stake in the first year of her leadership, she knew she couldn’t risk jeopardizing their partnership. 

Ada would never forget the moment Hecate accepted the position. She’d reached out to shake her small, taloned hand, saying “I have a very good feeling about this year.” Little did she know that her optimistic sentiment would become an annual tradition that always ended with Hecate’s cynical sigh. What Hecate didn’t know then, or now, was that the tradition always brought Ada back to the moment it all began. 

Pendle stirred once more, climbing over the duvet to rub his face against his mistress’ knee, which was enough to shake Ada from her daydream and start her morning. 

The usual pains and strains that typically woke her up had all but diminished, leaving Ada feeling limber and renewed. With the cold floor under her feet, she took care with her dress and jumper choice. The grey sheath clung a little tighter to her hips, and the maroon knit flowed slightly longer than her usual pink. Topping the look off with a silver brooch, she looked once more in the mirror, pink cheeks showing no sign of fading. 

There was an excitement buzzing just beyond her ears at the anticipation of seeing Hecate again. She knew in theory that their relationship would change because of the connection they now shared. Every bonding was different, and Ada knew it always depended on the attributes of the two people who were joined. She remembered the witching theory and practice of bonding years ago. Each example had an implicit danger associated with the act. Sometimes a pair who had joined was unable to detangle their magic from one another, leaving both without complete control. Another she read about seemed to have no effect on either witch until years later. Their bond had grown and evolved until one day they could feel each other without being near. They’d developed a shared consciousness that was unbreakable by any other spell or ritual. Not even the most powerful magic could undo what had been done. 

Ada’s stomach fluttered at the thought of learning more about their particular bond,  hoping that Hecate would be equally excited by the possibilities. 

The headmistress transferred into the dining hall, where she was enveloped by the chatter of students and staff. She loved the academy deeply. Through all her misgivings over the years and one-too-many attempted coups, Ada knew she would do anything for her students. No Great Wizard, no Witch’s Council or diabolical sister could take her home from her. 

Dimity walked past then, carrying a pitcher of green liquid, eyeing the contents eagerly. 

“What’s that, Miss Drill?” Ada asked. 

“Glad to see you up and about, Miss Cackle! I thought we might share a celebratory slimeade in honor of your miraculous recovery! ” 

“That’s quite thoughtful of you,” Ada beamed. “Though you really didn’t have to go to any trouble.” 

“Aw, that’s alright,” Dimity leaned closer, whispering, “Plus I thought maybe you and Hecate might like…” 

“Where is Hecate?” Ada interrupted, suddenly very concerned that everyone else already knew more than either she or Hecate had discussed divulging. 

“I thought you’d know. Last place I saw her was in her room after you woke up,” Dimity smirked, eyes twitching with the sudden urge to wink at Ada as if they both knew what had happened last night. 

Ada remembered someone closing the door when she came to, which would explain the other voice she’d heard. 

 _What else did Dimity see?_ she wondered, biting her lip nervously.

“If you’ll excuse me, Miss Drill,” Ada brushed past, leaving Dimity still snickering as she clung to whatever version of the truth she’d decided to believe.

* * *

Ada arrived in the empty rooms of her office with growing concern for Hecate’s whereabouts. It wasn’t like her to go missing at meals unless something was off. Part of her had expected to find Hecate at their table early that morning, just as eager to greet the new day as she was.  

Suddenly, like an Enid Nightshade project, a light bulb went off above Ada’s head, and she thought to test the strength of their bond rather than use a locator spell. She planted herself in the chair by the hearth and closed her eyes, focusing on her intention. Miraculously, Ada felt herself arrive almost instantly at a place without moving a muscle. She could smell roses and feel a cool breeze on her skin but knew she was still sitting in her favorite chair near the fire.

 _The garden! Of course._ Hecate tended to retreat to the garden when she needed time to contemplate life’s larger inquiries without interruption.

As excited as Ada was to feel their bond manifest in such an extraordinary way, she also felt her anxiety mounting. She hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming throng of nerves in ages, and she quickly realized they must not have been entirely her own. 

Without trying to stir Hecate from her state or give away that she had tapped into their connection, Ada transferred near to her location. She spotted the deputy sitting on the stone bench next to Ada’s favorite rosebush. The flowers were a lovely soft pink this time of year with centers the color of sunshine. They had a sweet, subtle fragrance that traveled on the breeze each day to her office window. 

Hecate wrung her hands in her lap, her head bowed under the grey sky. Clouds rumbled in the distance, shaking the earth slightly as they rolled ever closer to the academy on the hill. Ada approached with a soft step, not wanting to alarm the deputy head, who appeared to be lost in her own thoughts, but of course a small twig snapped under Ada’s black kitten flats, giving her away. Hecate’s head popped up to see Ada approach, her back straightening in discomfort. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you, I… I just came to see if you were alright?” Ada asked as she sat at the opposite end of the bench. 

“Of course, Miss Cackle,” Hecate returned her gaze to the distance. “I simply wished to start my morning in meditation before the rest of the day is consumed with inevitable storms.” 

Ada cringed at the formality, knowing something must have happened between last night and this morning to make Hecate retract like this. 

“And it’s a fine idea, too,” the older woman replied encouragingly. 

She allowed the silence to pass for a few moments, trying to give Hecate the space she knew she needed, but finally couldn’t stand it. 

“You can take all the time you need, but I just want you to know that I’m ready to talk whenever you’d like. We have much to discuss, and I…” 

“I will be sure to come to your office as soon as I can, but in the meantime,” Hecate looked down at her pocket watch, snapping it closed. “I must depart for class.” 

Ada bit her lip, turning to admire the beautiful shrub of flowers instead of revealing her disappointment at Hecate’s coldness. 

“Have a pleasant day,” the tall, shadow of a woman added before transferring away. 

Ada wrapped her arms around her middle and squeezed. She could still feel Hecate’s anxiety, which only added to her own. She went back to her office and tried to soldier through the day, hoping the impending storms would indeed hold off for a while.

* * *

Hecate never came to Ada that day, or the next. She began taking meals in her room if she took them at all. For fear of pushing her further away, Ada resolved to give Hecate the space she needed, but couldn’t help but use their bond to check in on her time and again.

A few more nights passed. Ada couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, annoying her familiar to the point that Pendle finally relocated to the windowsill. She thought she’d check in with Hecate once more through their bond to see if the mere sensation of someone close, someone who cared about whatever it was that she was going through would calm her. She was conflicted with continuing to tap into the bond without having communicated with Hecate about it, but concern and restlessness overpowered any of her doubts. 

It was so unlike Hecate to stay away when there was far too much unresolved between them. Even at her most desperate attempts to solve problems without causing Ada stress, Hecate was always inevitably thankful when Ada showed up at her side, and they were able to find a solution together. _This should be no different_ Ada thought, even though it was becoming more and more clear just how much things had changed. 

Placing her palms down on her own chest and stomach, Ada focused on her breath. She thought about Hecate, peacefully sleeping with Morgana tucked in at her feet. 

The hope Ada clung to slowly dissolved as tears rolled down her face. She could feel Hecate crying, taking small breaths as she attempted to regain control.

 _Oh my poor dear_ , Ada shook. She knew the intrusion was bold, but she was determined to help in any way she could. If Hecate could not bring herself to talk, Ada would at least let her know their connection could be a comfort rather than a burden. 

Ada began rubbing wide, soothing circles near her throat, taking deep, calming breaths. She could smell Hecate’s familiar scent, see her raven hair behind closed eyelids. It was as if they were together in the same room, the smell of her magic so keen it was almost unbelievable that she was anywhere other than right next to Ada, there on the bed with her. When Hecate used her magic, Ada always swore it transported her to the scent of an early snow on a crisp fall day, the colorful leaves melding with the ground, bringing the air an unctuous sweetness. Over the years, the aroma of Hecate’s magic had become as familiar to her as her own. 

Ada could sense Hecate lighten at the realization that Ada was connecting. The tears stopped after a few more moments, and her breathing calmed. There was a serene, subtle awareness coursing through them both, a peace that held them in a space that did not need answers to all their questions immediately. It just allowed them to exist, to be with each other in such soft, electric synchronicity.

Ada was about to disengage when she felt a warm, furtive squeeze around her own middle. She gasped, eyes brimming again as she felt Hecate let the walls down. In hugging herself, it was as if she was thanking Ada for caring, for taking a chance and reaching out even though she had resolved to keep her distance. Ada moved her arms around her waist again and returned the embrace, all while trying to hold the feeling of concern, affection, and respect in her heart. 

Ada could faintly smell Hecate’s hair now, the sweet earthiness of palo santo mixed with something lighter, a flower whose name she could never remember. The combination of intimacies shook Ada from the intoxicating feeling of holding Hecate in her bed. All she wanted was to show Hecate just how much she meant to her after all these years of growing together and learning from each other. She had patience enough for both of them. 

Removing her arms after a few moments, Ada turned on her side, once again alone in the dark. She hoped tomorrow Hecate would feel ready to reconnect with her in person. They had much to discuss, and Ada only prayed they could be brave together like they always were.


	7. Chapter 7

Hecate was determined to focus on her work. The previous evening brought more questions than answers after Ada had tapped into their bond. It was reassuring, beyond soothing no doubt, but it still hadn’t quite quelled the fear that she had ruined everything.

Tucked away in her lab, she had been planning additional projects for the upper years while tweaking a revelation potion. The hope was that when added to a student’s cauldron this new brew could detect magical signatures in the event that another student tried to tamper with the intended potion. Keeping her mind busy and hands employed was of the utmost importance if she was to get through this day, or week, however long it would take to return to a state that resembled anything close to normal.

Mildred and Ethel weren’t likely to become friends anytime soon since it was discovered last year that Mildred came from a witching family. Ethel went from sabotaging Mildred simply because she thought she didn’t belong at the school to bullying her because she had all along. The potion Hecate was devising could serve as the base formula for any number of remedies or preemptive measures to avoid subterfuge. For all her faults, Hecate admired the resilience of the young Hubble. She stopped keeping count of the times she had underestimated the disheveled child and had decided instead to give her a fighting chance.

She scribbled the formula down in her spellbook and placed the full jar in the cupboard to settle. Hecate stored the book back in her desk and realized it had been a few days since she checked her mail cubbie in the lounge. After hours in the dark, a change of scenery wouldn't be objectionable. She could perhaps risk roaming the halls, less likely to bump into someone she’d be forced to assist, or worse, engage in some lengthy conversation.

Hecate transferred to the teacher’s lounge in full stride. She stopped in front of the wooden box with her surname on it, reaching inside for the stack of materials.

“So, you’ve decided to rejoin the living?” Ms. Bat quipped from her favorite chair.

Hecate jumped back, holding tight to her papers.

“Ms. Bat, you nearly scared the life out of me.”

“I thought you saw me sitting here when you transferred in, but you’ve been off in your own little world these days,” Miss Bat looked up briefly before turning back to the grading on her lap.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve done nothing of the sort. I’ve just been trying to get ahead for next term.”

“So you haven’t been tucked away in your lab avoiding anyone then?”

“Of… of course not,” Hecate tried, and failed, not to stumble.

“Really? Because, as it turns out, I noticed that you started preparing for next term as soon as Ms. Cackle made her miraculous recovery.”

“What, precisely, are you implying?” Hecate stalked forward, suddenly on the offense. “Because I have work to get back to and don’t have the time to stand here and…”

“Sit with me a moment,” Miss Bat asked quietly, extending her open palm out to the closest high-backed armchair.

Hecate’s eyes rolled so far back inside her head, it was a miracle she didn’t sprain them.

“You and I haven’t always been close, have we dear?” Ms. Bat continued.

“I think we get along just fine,” Hecate swallowed, brows deeply furled, hands turning over on her knees.

“I mean to say, we’ve known each other for years professionally, but we have our own… interests.”

“My chanting voice is better in an empty room, I can assure you,” Hecate added, making a joke at her own expense.

“What I’m trying to say is that I see you. You’ve been going through some difficult times and trying to go it alone, and I’m wanting to remind you that you don’t have to.”

Hecate’s eyes watered, teeth sinking into her lower lip to keep them at bay.

 _I’ve been caught again,_ she groaned ever so subtly.

“I’ll be just fine,” she breathed. “Thank you for saying so all the same.”

“You’ve followed in your mother’s footsteps in more ways than you know, Hecate.”

“This has nothing to do with… why would you bring up my…” Hecate stopped blustering, realizing it was such an obvious lie.

“Come now. Tell me what’s the matter.”

Hecate straightened her shoulders, swallowing harder, though it was ineffective for staving off the onslaught of emotion and history she’d kept bottled inside for far too long.

“I’ve no coven or children to call my own,” she exhaled. “ I’ve been safely tucked away in my potions lab for two decades, not traveling Europe as a midwitch or climbing the ranks of the Council. She’d done so much in her short life, and I can’t for the life of me understand what’s been holding me back.”

Hecate shocked herself at the admission, already feeling calmer, lighter than she had in days for finally telling someone what had been swirling in her brain.

“I can see it clearly, but that’s because I know you better than you think.”

“What do you know that I don’t, Miss Bat?”

“Call me Gwen, Hecate. Your mother always did. I’ve been asking you to for…”

“Did you know my mother?” Hecate interrupted.

“You were never meant to know. It was part of the pact we made long ago.”

Hecate turned to give Ms. Bat her full attention as the clock chimed, skin suddenly chilled, though a fire that burned inside, the same spark that belonged to her mother, the thing that always told her there was more to the story, began to kindle mightily as she listened.

“I’m part of your mother’s coven.”

“H-how?” Hecate’s mouth fell open. “How am I only finding out now?”

“As I said, I made a pact. We all did actually. We were so young when we met, and it was a different time then. Once we found each other, there was no letting go. There were eight of us. We each had our passions and expertise, and a special blood bond that connected us all.”

“I have so many questions,” Hecate’s eyes continued to burn against her will.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you all the answers you’re looking for.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“I could feel your pain. See, I carry a part of your mother with me, and when you hurt, I know,” she reached for Hecate’s hand. “You remind me of her almost every day. I can see her in how fiercely you protect the girls, in your passion for education and how your experiments fill you with excitement. I even see her in your long black hair when you let it down.”

Hecate smiled heartily, thankful through her tears.

“Stop comparing yourself to your mother. It was a different time then. We were more radical because we had to be. She was always more nomadic than I. Your mother bristled at the idea of staying still for too long, but that’s not you. You’re not too old for a coven of your own, or children if you really want them, but my dear you must see that you have more children in your life than most.”

“I suppose that is undeniable.”

“Your disdain for men is just as obvious as your concern for the future of the craft, you know.” Hecate bristled at the accusation, just as Ms. Bat continued. “Which brings me to Ada.”

“What about Ada?” Hecate suddenly pulled her hand away.

“It’s time to let her love you, dear.”

“How can you say that?” Hecate’s eyes went wide.

“I can feel the love you have for her. You’re not fooling anyone, Hecate Hardbroom, least of all me. I’m an old crone attuned to feeling the vibrations of love. It was my contribution to the coven after all… well, that and my ability to get my hands on rocket fuel.” Gwen chuckled lightly at her mischavism.

“I’m not sure she would return the sentiment,” Hecate looked away.

“I didn’t say I could _only_ feel the love you have for her, did I? I can feel the energetic vibration a soul emits when it’s found it’s person. Remember that day Ethel turned Mildred Hubble into a frog? My heart could feel Algie in the potions lab even in frog form before Ms. Gullet transformed him back to the dashing wizard I love so much.”

“That’s all very well Ms. Bat, but not everyone is meant to have a love story like you and Mr. Rowan…”

“As I said, I can feel it, and if you stopped doubting yourself even for a moment you’d realize that the only thing standing in the way of the love you deserve is you.”

Hecate was speechless. Learning how well Miss Bat knew her and finding out that they were magically related, in a way, made her feel so much less alone. Still, it was far too much to take in.

“I’m afraid… of more than losing Ada,” Hecate admitted. “I had to use a binding spell to…”

“Don’t you think I know that? I wouldn’t just tell you all of this after decades of secrecy for nothing, you know.” Ms. Bat smirked over her spectacles. “The night you bound yourself to Ada woke me out of a dead sleep. The scorpion grasses gave you away. I could smell them in the air. I could see their glitter underneath my door frame. It made me cry out with delight! I hadn’t seen such pure love heal like that in ages.”

“Please don’t tell me you can feel everything I do as a result of my mother’s connection.” A deep blush filled Hecate’s cheeks as she thought of all that happened that evening.

“Nothing of the sort. It’s simply a faint hum, and it usually happens when you are with a certain headmistress. I can tune it out if it makes you feel better. I’m quite used to it since Algie came back to me.”

“So it… it isn’t all in my head then? Ada and I have been close for years and with such respect and care… I just don’t want to take the risk if I don’t…”

“No risk, no reward, I always say.”

“Yes,” Hecate smoothed her hands over her dress, sitting up straight again, feeling somehow relieved and even more nervous than she had been before their conversation. “Well.”

“I’d better get back to my grading, dear. I dare say you have some thinking to do.”

“Thank you, Gwen. For everything. If it’d be alright, I’d like to learn more about my mother, at least what you can talk about.”

“I’d be happy to. You just name the day.”

Hecate flashed a rare, genuine smile before gathering her materials and transferring back to her lab.

There was much to consider indeed. After almost a week of avoiding Ada, she supposed talking to her was the first step in taking the biggest risk of all.

* * *

Hecate was beginning to think she was pacing a groove into the stone outside of Ada’s office door. The halls were bare with the evening rounds completed. A few of the usual students thought they were being clever using a masking spell to silence their chatter, but she excused the offense since they had at least managed to deploy a proper spell.

She knew Ada was on the other side of the door, but didn’t know what to say when it opened. Wringing her hands with every step, Hecate pursed her lips firmly and shook her head. _It’s time._

She knocked twice on the thick wood and immediately heard Ada answer with, “Come in!”

Hecate complied with a flick of the wrist, and as soon as she stepped inside, her heart squeezed warmly. Ada was leaning back in her favorite chair with Pendle on her lap, lazily petting him as she read.

“Oh, it’s you!” Ada dropped the book on the table without looking away from Hecate for a second.

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Hecate smiled apologetically, taking another step closer.

“Your presence is the furthest thing from an intrusion I can fathom.” Ada all but beamed, setting Pendle down and preparing for whatever Hecate had finally come to discuss.

“That is most kind, but I’m not sure I’m deserving after what I’ve put you through this past week.” The words came out before she could catch them, heart pounding in her chest with a mix of shame and nerves.

“I’ve been trying to give you the time and space you need because you’ve been going through an awful lot, but I’m burning through my patience for allowing you to punish yourself any longer,” Ada replied. “You’re hurting my friend when you do that, you know. I simply cannot accept it.”

Hecate’s eyes popped at Ada’s protectiveness, realizing that she really was only hurting herself.

“Please sit down,” Ada offered the armchair near her. “You’ve been so distant. I keep asking myself what I could have done to hurt you so…”

“It hasn’t been you. When I… there are times when I fear everything is about to break open. That I might break open. Most of the time, I’m able to keep those feelings under the surface, but when we were at the house… you almost died, Ada. I should have disenchanted every corner before bringing you there. If I had, you would not have been injured and we wouldn’t have to be…”

“Do you regret the binding spell?” Ada was focused on Hecate’s face, eyes pointed and compassionate.

“No.” Hecate could hear her own heartbeat as if it was ten times larger than normal. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s a relief,” Ada chuckled.

“So I take it you’re not upset with me then?”

“For what, Hecate?” Ada’s eyebrow arched. “Saving my life?”

“Binding spells between two people have a foundation of consent and intention, and with your wound spreading as fast as it was… you do know I’d never take advantage, Ada.”

“My dear, I hope you don't think I’m making light of something that I can tell is affecting you greatly, but as far as I’m concerned I’ll never be able to tell you just how grateful I am,” Ada practically shook, serious and steady all at once. “You sprung into action and literally sucked the poison out of me!”

“Years of foraging and a lifelong interest in reading field guides finally paid off, I suppose,” Hecate ducked her head, trying to hide her smile, but the warmth in her cheekbones gave her away.

“Last night…” Ada swallowed. “I hope you’re not upset that I checked in on you.”

The memory of Ada holding her and soothing her tears made Hecate radiate as she turned to look at the fire crackling beside them.

“No,” her voice was low but firm. “I’m grateful.”

Ada stood to get them some tea, clearly ready to dive in further.

“We really should talk about the effects of the spell, don’t you think?”

“I’m conflicted,” Hecate wrung her hands, even as she felt herself pulled closer. “As much as I’d like to say we could unbind and move on, I… I have to admit I’ve been enjoying our connection.”

“As have I,” Ada looked up from the kettle.

“Really?”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you all week! I’ve felt so much more alive and renewed, and I….well, I’m eager to know how it’s made you feel as well.”

“The main reason I’m conflicted,” Hecate continued, trying to maintain a proper distance, a professional tone to her voice, “is because I feel like I’m getting away with tapping into our connection to check on you, see how you are, without coming and talking to you directly.”

“I see.”

“I was just so scared you’d be cross that I broke the Witches Code.” Hecate turned her hands over in her lap, the fear of losing Ada that night rushing back to her.

“You never told me what really happened. How did the spell manifest?”

“I’ve had enchanted scorpion grasses with me my whole life. They were foraged from the boulders by the house when I was a child. I bound myself to them so I could always renew my supply.”

“Textbook green witchery,” Ada smiled as she returned to her seat.

“I used a version of that same chant on you, and my magic combined with the magic of the flowers.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“I’ve always been fascinated with binding spells. They’re so nuanced and varied. I never thought I’d be part of a witch-to-witch bind, and I’m finding the effects rather… intimate. Now that I know just how personal the enchantment was… well, it makes me all the more grateful and determined to keep it.”

Hecate blushed furiously at the look Ada gave her.

“I think I know what you mean.”

“This is a once in a lifetime spell, Hecate. Those flowers, your family, it’s all connected. And I’m just the lucky witch who gets to share it with you.”

“Thank you, Ada,” Hecate smiled demurely.

“With that being said,” Ada turned more serious, planting her teacup on the table next to her chair. “I think we need to go back to the house to do a ceremony for your aunt. We were going to have it for her here in the forest, but I think it would be special to put her to rest in the place she loved. What do you think?”

“And put your life at risk again?” Hecate felt every nerve in her body tense. “No, Ada, I cannot allow…”

“It won’t be like the last time. I thought you wanted me to help you get the house sorted?”

“I could always just mirror you, couldn’t I?”

“Please let me be with you through this. I want to be,” Ada reached out and grabbed Hecate’s hand. Their connection sparked at the contact, making both women very aware of its intensity. “Let me.”

The room could have dissolved around them and Hecate wouldn’t have noticed. Ada was so forgiving, so kind. She squeezed Hecate’s hand once more before releasing it and reaching back for her tea.

“If you need to think about it, that’s fine,” Ada shared. “But I was rather hoping we could get a move on tomorrow after your classes.”

“To-tomorrow!” Hecate stuttered, though if she were being honest, the idea of having to wait any longer to spend more time together, alone, was even more painful. “That’s hardly enough time prepare another trip.”

“It’s up to you, but I’ve been thinking if we leave after your last class then we’ll make it with enough time to have a beautiful sunset ceremony for your aunt. We could make a weekend of it and really transform it into a place you’ll want to come back to.”

“You really have been thinking, haven’t you?” Hecate was stunned.

“I suppose so. I had plenty of time to think this week when you were busy stewing,” Ada smirked in her direction.

“If you’re sure you want to go back,” Hecate swallowed. “Then yes. Let’s. I know Miss Drill was planning an indoor camping adventure this weekend. I’ll check in with her tomorrow at breakfast to be sure she won’t need assistance and ask Gwen to help out if need be.”

“We’re finally calling Miss Bat, Gwen are we?” Ada teased. “That only took…”

“Yes. Well, we had a nice chat yesterday.” Hecate watched as Ada played with the rim of her cup, slightly hypnotized seeing her strong finger glide over the porcelain, steam dancing above the liquid.

“I look forward to hearing more about it,” Ada took a sip of tea and placed the cup down once more before getting up from her chair and stepping in closer.

Hecate stood too, smiling with relief at the sight of Ada’s kind eyes. “Thank you, Ada. I’d better let you get some rest before tomorrow’s journey.”

Overcome with the desire to touch her, to test just how strong and how quickly their bond was deepening, Hecate felt her feet carry her another inch forward almost of their own volition. She craved the comfort of Ada’s arms, but didn’t want to make matters more complicated than they already were.

But it was Ada who wrapped her arms around Hecate then, resting her head on her shoulder, making Hecate wonder if their newfound connection had given them telepathy. Hecate breathed in a small, sharp sigh, letting her hands come up to Ada’s shoulder blades as she held her back, Ada’s thick jumper feeling soft and somehow so familiar beneath her palms.

“Did you feel that?” Ada asked, voice slightly hushed. “I feel sort of… tingly and warm everywhere, but not uncomfortably so. It’s like you’re all around me even though you’re just right here. Can you feel it too?”

Ada hugged her a little deeper, as if they had done this a thousand times, as if it were completely natural, all while breathing as steadily as she could. Her white hair tickled Hecate’s neck and cheek as she pressed ever closer, their bodies touching everywhere but below the knee. Hecate could feel the pulse of Ada’s heartbeat, of the energy they shared radiating from Ada’s chest. She was sure Ada was listening to hear own heart pounding, since Hecate could hear it hammering in her ears.

Hecate breathed in Ada’s skin, warm and familiar, only now she was enveloped in what had always been uniquely, perfectly her. It was fresh and earthy, like sandalwood and eucalyptus on a fall morning, and all she wanted was to dive deeper into their embrace. Hecate tilted her head ever so slightly, slipping her nose into Ada’s silvery mane. How she had longed to do just this at the end of a tedious day. How she had kept herself from doing it before now was a complete mystery.

Hecate was drowning a perfect death surrounded by the love in Ada’s heart. She tried with everything in her to hold back just enough, fearing the love she had for the woman in her arms would give her away.

“I feel… yes, the warmth of our connection is quite strong. I --”

Hecate gave a gentle squeeze, indicating that she needed to let go, whether or not she was truly ready. Ada looked up at her, smiling wide and affectionately as they separated.

“Would it be alright if we checked in on each other from time to time, like last night?” Ada ventured. “It certainly was easier than using a maglet. If that’s alright with you. I don’t want to overstep...”

“Of course,” Hecate returned the smile she was gifted, shifting towards the door. “I’ll pack a small bag for our journey. Just reach out tomorrow when you’re ready.”

“Sleep well, dear.”

“Thank you, Ada,” Hecate flashed her one more soft, smoldering smile, still feeling anxious, but also more alive by the second, just at the prospect of what was to come. “Goodnight.”

* * *

The next day could not have felt more excruciating. Somewhere between teaching the year twos and year fives in the middle of the afternoon, Hecate realized how distracted she was. Surely she wouldn’t have misplaced an entire jar of rare slug feelers in honey for the advanced changing potion if she wasn’t so miserably distracted.

The last of the students in her final course was heading out the door when Hecate felt Ada snake her fingers around her forearm through their bond, the smell of her magic blanketing the room, making her gasp at the sudden contact. _She must be ready._ Hecate wondered if she could send a message back just by concentrating on the thought and wasted no time in testing that theory.

Closing her eyes and returning the touch, Hecate thought, _on my way._ What she wasn’t expecting were the two taps confirming the message was received.

A moment of dread was replaced with hope when she paused to think of how powerful they could be together. Shaking the distraction from her mind, Hecate transferred to Ada to begin their trek back to the house.

* * *

“We made it just in time, didn’t we?” Ada sent her broom to rest, looking out over the cliff beside Hecate. The sun was getting heavy in the sky, but they could see bold, black clouds looming in the south.

“It seems the timing worked out just as you’d hoped,” Hecate remarked before shifting to face the garden.

“It’s rather nice when something you envision goes to plan, isn’t it?” Ada followed along, trying to read Hecate’s expression.

The taller woman smiled solemnly, casting an enchantment over the property with her unique signature. As they approached the house, they watched the curtains part and windows open, breathing life back into the space before the door opened wide to welcome them in.

They continued up the front steps through the garden, making their way inside. A breeze blew the drapes lightly, causing them to look like they were dancing beside the window frames. The golden light of the sun bowing in the sky drenched the living room in a rich, auburn glow, almost making it look like a new house entirely.

“We should get a move on before the weather forces us to rethink our intentions,” Ada suggested.

“You’re right. I can smell the rain in the air.” Hecate removed her cloak, hanging it by the door next to Ada’s as she made her way to the side table where her aunt’s remains sat in the silver box. She took it in her arms ceremoniously, holding it to her chest as she headed outside. Ada was already waiting there for her, holding an assortment of flowers and herbs in a rustic bouquet. They walked together in silence to the cliff’s edge, near Minerva’s final resting place.

Ada let her hand smooth over Hecate’s back reassuringly as Hecate looked at her with such gratitude, despite the sadness welling behind her big brown eyes. She let a tear fall to the cracked ground below, lifting her chin as she took in the expanse of the landscape before them.

“Words haven’t always come easy to us, Aunt M, but I’ve learned from you even through your silence. You protected me and taught me how to be a dutiful witch. One who values facts, perfects her potions, and demands order. Perhaps the greatest lesson was one you never taught, rather one I’ve learned with its absence - showing love to others, including you. I’ve always preferred to dissolve into the background rather than take center stage. Losing you has offered me the perspective I needed to grow. I’m only sorry that I’ll have to wait for the next life to show you my gratitude. Thank you, Aunt M. Thank you for loving me the only way you knew how.”

Hecate nodded to Ada, who levitated the silver box from her arms to a few feet in front of them as they faced the open horizon. The tall witch took the warm hand of the woman beside her, giving it a squeeze before they raised their arms up towards the sky.

“Morwenna Aurora Hardbroom, may your soul find peace as we return you to the earth from which you came. May you rest until one day we meet again.”

Wind blew the hems of their skirts, Ada’s hair flying in every direction as their powerful summoning of the elements began to take hold of the ashes. The box shook, becoming vacant once more, the ashes taking to the sky as they glittered and caught the light. It was as beautiful as it was mournful.

The air took shape as it filled with Morwenna’s remains, swirling them together before transforming once more into a long spiral that was shot out towards the sun. A gold burst of magic sprung from Hecate’s chest at the same time as a violet burst came from Ada. The magic mingled with the ashes for a moment before exploding like a firework, raining over everything they could see. She touched the house, the garden, the boulders along the cliff’s edge, and the wild greenery peeking out from between the crevasses in the basin.

Ada didn’t let go of Hecate’s hand, and Hecate gave no indication that she needed her hand back when they finally lowered their arms. They stood together, as they always had, basking in the gorgeous scene before them, filling the moments with comfortable silence. When they finally turned toward each other, Hecate watched Ada for a moment before wrapping her arms around her, bringing her flush against her lean body. Ada melted into the embrace, letting her supple, strong arms drape around Hecate’s middle, squeezing harder than she ever had. Hecate could feel Ada’s lungs emptying and filling up again against her torso, the smell of honey and lavender in her hair so keen, she could feel her all around.

When Ada made no move to retreat, Hecate felt a little of the fear leave her body for what seemed like the first time in years. She had to trust that Ada cared for her just as much as she did. The choice was clear: don’t take the risk and find happiness in her presence without expectation, or tear down the barriers keeping her away from the happiness Ada Cackle offered without further excuse or hesitation.

Hecate chose Ada. She knew she always would. She’d wait for as long as was needed to show her that she felt more than friendship. She’d save her from paintings, lift her spirits when they were low, work her hardest to leave Cackle’s with a legacy of powerful, brilliant witches, and she would show her every day, in a million subtle and more obvious ways, just how much she loved her.

“Thank you,” Hecate breathed against the top of Ada’s head.

“You’re very welcome,” Ada replied. Her voice was deep, and a little raw.

Hecate tapered her grip as Ada followed her lead. They locked eyes, and Hecate smiled warmly. The gentle breeze that blew during the ceremony seemed to have evolved into a frigid gust at the front end of the storm. The informal bouquet blew over the edge of the land, sending the flowers soaring away from them.

“Shall we go in?” Hecate asked.

“I think we’d better before it’s too late,” Ada replied, looking out at the rolling clouds.

As if on cue, a lightning bolt snapped into the basin of the cliff. A sharp crack of thunder followed, roaring around them threateningly. If they hadn’t known better, it would have seemed as though the lightning tore a hole in the clouds, because the downpour that followed was instantaneous Hecate grabbed Ada’s hand, and they began to run towards the house, laughing with a wild, nervous energy until Hecate transferred them inside before another bolt struck nearby.

“Look at the state of us!” Ada laughed to break the mood, reaching down to ring out her skirt.

Hecate watched Ada’s every movement, delighting in how much joy beamed off of her even after being completely drenched. The sound of droplets hitting the wooden floor, the rumble of thunder outside wasn’t as deafening as the sound of their breath echoing in the stillness of the house.

“I have closets full of clothing upstairs you’re welcome to look through if you’d like to change into something warm and dry?” Hecate offered before catching herself. “That is, I could just offer us a drying spell if you…”

“No, actually, I’d love to change,” Ada interrupted “I brought some things with me, but you know how I always opt for discovering new treasures.”

“In that case, let me show you where to look.” Hecate swiped a few damp hairs back into place as she led them upstairs.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Ada pulled her heavy jumper closer, hoping it would provide anything but discomfort.

“Warming spell. However, I am looking forward to seeing what I left in here. It’s been ages since I went through any of it.”

They finally found their way into Hecate’s bedroom on the second floor. It was a few doors down from her aunt’s room but looked just as aged as everything else in the house. There was a dressing mirror and hat rack by the door, a short, sturdy bureau, and wide bed. The dark,   frame sat in the center of the room near a wall of hanging, slatted closet doors. The linens were crisp and bleached white either by the sun or chemicals, but they were a steep contrast to the yellowed, knitted blanket folded at the foot of the bed.

“Help yourself to anything in here, or in the other rooms. I’m not entirely sure what you’ll find, but perhaps with a few layers you’ll be nice and warm.”

“Thank you, Hecate. Do tell me if there’s anything I should steer clear of.”

“No such thing,” Hecate smiled.

Ada turned to the first open door, picking through hangers until she stopped at a heavy velvet dress the color of emeralds.

“Will you look at this?” Ada reverently removed it from its place between two black frocks, showing it to Hecate, who blushed instantly.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen that,” she reached out, feeling the luxurious fabric. “Not exactly what I’d choose if I was looking to warm up. I wore it to a Mabon celebration long ago, before I came to Cackle’s.”

“It’s velvet, and you already said you were in use of a warming spell. You should try it on,” Ada said coolly, peering above her glasses.

“I see,” Hecate swallowed. “Very well. If you’re picking out dresses, then I should get to pick yours,” she teased.

She knew very well what she looked like in that dress. It was low cut in the chest and fell past her heels. The trumpet shape didn’t leave much to the imagination as it hugged every curve, a far cry from the frocks she had become accustomed to wearing as her career progressed, and she’d opted for clothing that made more practical sense than offering any distractions.

Ada inspected the garment once more before handing it over.

“Sounds fair to me.”

Hecate placed the gown on the bed before returning to another section of the closet, smirking at their playfulness as she ruffled her fingers, making a show of choosing just the right one.

“Ah, yes I think this’ll do just fine.”

If Ada’s blush hadn’t been a giveaway, then her hitched breath surely had. Hecate handed her a black gown with sheer shoulders and a slight dip in the chest, something she knew Ada would have been reluctant to choose for herself, though Hecate knew it would suit her exceptionally.

“I think this would look lovely on you,” Hecate urged.

“I’m not sure that’s my size, but it’s…”

“We both know that won’t be an issue, don’t we?” Hecate’s gilded magic wound around the dress and Ada’s form, transforming it to her precise measurements. “Fair’s fair, after all.”

“I won’t soon forget this, I’ll have you know,” Ada feigned annoyance.

Hecate tried hard to stifle a giddy urge to laugh, letting the excitement wrap around her heart and lungs, making it difficult to breathe just long enough to be delicious.

“I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll change in my aunt’s room, but you’re welcome to make yourself comfortable in here. There’s an ensuite bathroom if you need it.” Hecate made her way to the door with the green dress tucked against her chest. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen?”

“Yes, yes of course.”

Closing the door behind her, Hecate didn’t need to test their bond to feel just how keenly everything was changing.

* * *

Ada stood in the all-but-empty living room, looking for a way to fill the silence while she waited for Hecate to join her. The hearth fire’s light brought warmth to the dark walls that naturally absorbed it. Her skin felt stoked by the rolling heat emanating from the blaze as she watched the embers glow crimson and amber beneath the grate.

She perused a stack of aging records, selecting an old midcentury compilation of standards. Delicately plucking the vinyl from a tattered, moth-nibbled tissue sleeve, she flicked the record above the stack, hearing Doris Day sing sweetly from the first side. A creaky step joined the music as Hecate descended the stairs into the living room.

Ada’s jaw would have dropped the moment she laid eyes on the vision before her if she hadn’t been so utterly gobsmacked.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Hecate asked softly, finally reaching the last step. Her hair was long and flowing in loose curls around her shoulders, like a capelet of smooth obsidian, a few strands pinned back to keep out of her eyes. Ada’s heart had fluttered every time Hecate’s hair was down, but now combined with the most enticing dress she’d ever seen - it was enough to test the limits of making a fool out of herself.

“No, not - not at all. I thought I would put some music on since we have such a selection.” Ada’s eyes were fixed on every movement Hecate made. Something as simple as fixing a sleeve made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Hecate’s dress, and her in it, was one of the most gorgeous things she’d ever witnessed. Green certainly was her color. Ada hoped she wasn’t making Hecate uncomfortable with her stare, but couldn’t help but feel like she too was being watched.

“That looks lovely on you,” Hecate’s eyes poured over every inch of Ada’s frame. She twirled around her, inspecting the fabric as if she was a couturier. Ada felt hot beneath her intentional gaze, doing her best to remain steady.

“Thank you. You said you wore this to Mabon one year?” Ada remembered, itching to fill the space with small talk, pointing to Hecate’s pooling skirt.

“Decades ago. I’m surprised it still fits.” Hecate stilled at Ada’s side. “Are you hungry?”

“It’s funny you say that, because while you were getting ready, I unpacked a little hamper of goodies for us so we wouldn’t have to live on tinned beans and sardines this go around.”

“That was clever thinking,” Hecate’s eyebrow quirked. “I only had the forethought to make sure we had a bottle of wine. Would you like to come show me what you’ve brought?”

“There are a few things I need to do before our meal actually, but you’ll find that only minimal assembly is required.”

“What’ll you get up to while I’m putting dinner together then?” Hecate turned a skeptical eye as she headed towards the kitchen.

“I've got a trick or two up my sleeve,” Ada promised.

Hecate smiled, shaking her head as she disappeared, amused by the thought of what Ada might conjure in her absence.

* * *

Hecate stood in front of a thick wooden table in the kitchen, appreciating the bounty that was left for her. Freshly baked bread and ripe cherry tomatoes piled high atop the counter, smelling like all the hearty comfort and sweetness that was contained within. An unctuous hunk of runny brie, full of tang and creaminess would pair perfectly with the vibrant quince paste sitting beside it.

She realized everything Ada had packed required no cooking at all, just simple arrangement. She picked up the jar of bright green olives, noting that all the components stemmed from a conversation they’d had months before about the joy and pleasure that came from simple meals designed for sharing. It was so thoughtful, the care Ada had taken, the thrill of being there together just the two of them, it was beginning to ease the pain that lingered from the purpose of their visit.

“Oh, Aunt M,” Hecate sighed aloud, running her hands over the large wooden cutting board she’d found, one her aunt had carved herself. “I can only imagine what you would have thought of all of this.”

Hecate set the board down at the center of the ingredients. Like an artist making the first stroke on a clean canvas, she placed the cheese at the core of her masterpiece. Methodically, she layered ingredients around it in a way that felt most logical. The figs, smelling sweet and looking so indulgently plump, gathered in a small heap in one corner, the quince on the opposite end. Olives and tomatoes sat together in harmony while Hecate sliced the bread, leaning several slices by a pinching bowl with salt.

A loud sound in the living room stirred her from her artistry.

“Everything alright in there?” Hecate jumped, understandably concerned for Ada’s safety given their history in this house.

“I’m just about ready in here if you’ll join me.”

Hecate’s heart began to race again inexplicably. _What is she doing?_ She took hold of the heavy board, mind swarming with possibilities, before finally answering.

“On my way!” she announced.

Nothing could have prepared her for the spectacle awaiting her in the next room. Ada hovered the board from Hecate’s loosening grip before she could drop it, just as her hands flew to her open mouth.

“Wha - Ada, how did you…”

Ada lowered their meal on the small table she set up near the fireplace, taking a few steps towards her.

“I hope it’s not too much. Please tell me you’re not upset with…”

“Of course I’m not upset, I’m just… This is so much more than I… how did you do  this?”

Hecate felt like she had walked through a portal into someone else’s home. Moving past Ada for just a moment to admire her handiwork, she took in the exquisitely designed, textured wallpaper where the dark dingy plaster had once lived. There was a set of sconces with lit ivory candles housed inside them flanking the bookshelf on the far wall. She could still hear the record playing its faint, familiar songs, pleasantly overwhelming all her senses.

Two plush, high-backed armchairs sat suggestively close to one another, with just a small table separating them. A tufted ottoman perched on layered rugs near the fire. The windows were now draped in thick layers of pale green fabric, adding a lightness and ease to the room’s otherwise baroque features. A long, deep settee replaced the worn, stiff one that had only taken up space before it. It was dark and inviting, piled high with pillows, a basket of blankets off to one end.

The care Ada had put into the presentation took Hecate’s breath away. She brought a hand down to her sternum, pressing where her pocket watch would be, the other reaching out for Ada, landing on her forearm blindly.

“How will I ever repay you for such kindness?”

“Repay me?” Ada laughed. “Your gratitude and happiness are more than enough. You’ve been through so much of late, I just wanted to help you feel better here.”

“It’s perfect.” Hecate let her hand linger where it was, noticing the details in Ada’s work. The crystals had been recharged and placed in clusters on the mantle by a stack of palo santo and a sage bundle. A small cauldron sat in the center with three cork-topped vials in a rack next to it. It was everything she ever could have needed, and so much more.

“I just thought of you - of the little things I know you don’t hate,” Ada said with a chuckle.

Hecate felt the laughter reside low in her belly, warming it, as if it had come from her own body. She quickly realized that when she was lost in wonder she must have made herself open to the one thing they shared without even trying.

Ada covered Hecate’s hand on her arm with her own, stroking her thumb over the creases on her knuckles.

 _She can feel it too,_ Hecate closed her eyes for just a second, simply existing in the moment, afraid it would slip away too soon.

When she opened them, she turned to Ada, and they exchanged a knowing look, one they had shared a hundred times before when words were unnecessary. It was the kind of look reserved for when the girls weren’t around. It had a temperature to it, a palpability neither of them could go on denying.

Ada was the first to budge.

“I saw the work of art you made over there,” she said, pointing at the board of delights. “Looks absolutely scrumptious!”

Hecate returned to the table, replacing a fallen fig from the pile before taking a seat.

“You supplied the perfect ingredients for such a feast.”

Black taper candles in low gold holders cast their glow on the romantic setting. The rich, smooth red wine Hecate contributed swirled in her glass as she brought it to her lips for a long sip. Before she knew it, they had fallen into their familiar patterns, sharing stories, laughing like always about how terrible the students’ families were this past Parent’s Evening.

“All I know is how happy I was to have you silently watching that conversation unfold. Who knows what else the Everlights would have offered for me to pass poor young Jade?” Hecate dabbed her napkin at her eyes.

“My mother always thought the faculty was fine on their own, but as a teacher who was always trying to evade the bribes of desperate parents, I knew some light spying would help my staff know their headmistress would be looking out for them.” Ada took a sip of her wine, then looked at the fire. “That was your idea, remember?”

“Was it?” Hecate thought back a few decades but couldn’t recall.

“It was before mother retired. We were in the staff lounge talking about our first term at the helm, plotting how we would be the change we wished to see in the craft.” Ada chuckled, remembering their start, “You said that no institution you worked at offered the teacher any security when faced with angry parents, so I suggested being the stealthy protector.”

“Of course. And here we are, seemingly a lifetime later, all the safer for it.” Hecate blushed lightly at the thought.

“Do you remember when young Mavis kept a hoard of pollywogs in a bucket under her bed?” Ada snickered as the memory came flooding back of a panicked, chubby little girl running through her office door, a dozen recently mobile young frogs hopping around her.

“It took a week to track down all those little frogs,” Hecate shook her head. “We’re just lucky Maud hasn’t followed in her mother’s footsteps.”

“Could you say that again?”

“What?”

“Frogs. I’ve never heard anyone say frogs like you.”

The heat in Ada’s cheeks at her own, bold playfulness was too enjoyable not to indulge.

“Frrrrrrogs.” Hecate smiled behind her glass as she took another sip. “There, are you happy?”

“That reminds me. I meant to ask why you call those flowers scorpion grasses?” Ada took a fig between her fingers and bit down on the fruit, lips spreading greedily around the purple flesh.

Hecate paused before answering, the image of Ada’s full, sumptuous mouth distracting her from their conversation. “The books I had referred to them as such, and I never cared to call them anything else.”

“Most people call them forget-me-nots, you know.”

Hecate set her glass back on the table and replied, “I’m sure this will come as no shock to you, but I am not most people”.

Ada nodded before peering back over her glasses.

“That, and there’s something sentimental about forget-me-nots,” Hecate continued. “And I like to be more scientific and mystical whenever I can.”

The record finally stopped spinning, leaving a loud silence save for the licks of the flame on a dry, cracking log.

“Any suggestions?” Ada rose from the table, returning the record back to its tattered sleeve. Sorting through the stack, she pulled out a new one, turning to show Hecate. “Oh, I always loved this one. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I’m glad you’re finding such gems,” Hecate beamed, reaching back out to the board for another sharp olive.

Ada spun the record, letting it rotate above her finger until it was level, filling the room with her lavender scented charm. Hecate could smell her magic stronger than before. It was as if she was transported to a neatly organized field in France full of rows of rolling amethyst. The song was slow and loose, just the orchestra of a big band’s trumpet and clarinet making any listener weak to the urge to hold someone close.

Hecate watched Ada sway to the tune, following her hips swing from side to side in a dress tighter than any she wore at school. She had craved the intimacy of such a moment for longer than she’d ever be able to admit. Time slowed, and Hecate let her eyes roam lazily up Ada’s legs and backside, seeing the curve of her body unencumbered by her loose jumper.

She was too distracted by the mood to realize Ada had begun walking back to the table, still keeping the rhythm. She was past her side of the table now and getting closer with every swish of her skirt.

“It would be a shame to miss an opportunity like this,” Ada managed before instinctively reaching out her hand. “Would you care to dance?”

Hecate looked up into Ada’s kind eyes, shimmering in the fire’s glow, seeing the question written on her face before she could process the words. Without hesitation, she bowed her head a little bashfully, taking Ada’s warm hand in hers. Before standing, she kicked off her thick heels, flinging them under the table.

Barefoot in the dark green velvet dress, Hecate held Ada’s hand, ducking under her arm as she spun through the partially furnished room. The ethereal sounds of the album’s aged ridges echoed across the wooden floor, vibrating along newly redesigned walls from a time long past.

Hecate knew she had so much more skin on display than she was ever really comfortable with, but the plunging neckline that reached her sternum was another calculated risk in letting Ada know how much she trusted her. Without the heels adding to their height difference, Hecate noticed how intimate it felt to be almost at eye level with the woman she’d stood next too for so long, day in and day out. She could feel the solid, polished beams grounding her with each step as Ada led them in time to the tempo.

Nothing in that house had ever made Hecate feel this good. Decades of someone else’s rules, overt and implied, made every movement feel illicit. Hecate twitched deliciously inside at how powerful she felt twirling through the room with abandon in Ada’s arms. This place, so suffocating in her youth, was bathed in bliss as the two witches inched ever closer, wrapping hands around shoulders, fingers entwined, swaying nimbly past the furniture.

Hecate’s fingers brushed along the base of Ada’s neck on her way to gripping her closer, so grateful for the opportunity to feel this good and safe. Ada nestled into the dance, grazing Hecate’s cheek with her own before turning them again. The last song on the album played until it faded, dropping onto the small stack. Hecate and Ada remained connected. Ada hadn’t realized she was humming along with the tune until the music stopped and her sweet, low purr filled the void. Hecate watched, heart, thumping out of her chest, until Ada opened her eyes, waking from whatever dream she was weaving.

“Why didn’t you nudge me?” Ada blushed. “I must have gotten lost in the music.”

“I quite enjoyed your extended version,” Hecate admitted.

They continued to sway in silence as if to a soundtrack only they could hear. The only sound came from their shared breath and Ada’s shoes drumming lightly where they danced.

It was Ada who was the braver of the two just then, flushed face, feeling like she was all thumbs and left feet, but in reality looking as calm as ever. She reached up to Hecate’s hair, plucking the pin securing her shorter tendrils, letting it hit the ground with a ping.

Hecate’s lids felt heavy as they raked across Ada’s shoulder and neck, but when her darkened doe eyes finally made contact with Ada’s, she felt like she had finally come home.

Ada’s fingers coiled in curls, the smell of amber and mahogany hitting her nose with the unfurling of every lock.

“I’m not sure why I’ve been so emboldened, but I… can’t seem to help myself,” she admitted, drawing her hand along Hecate’s neck, caressing her scalp.

“Whatever it is you’re doing,” Hecate shuddered, closing her eyes. “Don’t stop.”

Her lips parted, head leaning back into Ada’s palm, slightly shocked at her answer, but knowing this was exactly what she wanted. Ada stopped moving, stopped breathing, and finally, stopped fearing.

The absence of motion shook Hecate from her trance, waiting for the moment to collapse in on itself, a moment that felt like destiny.

They searched each other’s eyes as their faces inched closer with every breath, giving each other plenty of time to withdraw if that’s what they wanted. It was as if the years of playing it safe, ever worried that they would ruin their friendship, had dissolved into nothingness. This was the beginning of a whole new way of life, and without putting words to skipping heartbeats, they felt it coursing through their veins. The connection they now shared had only pushed them closer to the inevitable.

Ada smiled, closed her eyes and placed soft, supple lips on Hecate’s, feeling her return the warm, delicate kiss. One of them moaned softly while the other inhaled at the feeling of electricity zipping through their bodies. Arms wrapped around each other, lips continuing to press and slip over and over again while Hecate’s hands flew up to hold Ada’s cheeks. Her fingers grazed ceremonially over eyebrows, a nose, her beloved forehead, sweet familiar ears, cheeks, and chin.

It felt like every pore on Ada’s face awoke to Hecate’s touch. Hecate broke away for a moment, seeing Ada out of breath, panting with desire, only to come crashing back in hungrily, lapping at the older woman’s open mouth, trembling with want.

It was as if they were stuck on an island and were being rescued at long last, fresh water raining down on them. The thirst, the years of desire that had built, all of it was finally pouring out. They were each other’s safe landing each and every time they felt like falling apart. At last, in a place so far from what they considered their home, they were making a new start.

“There’s so much more I’d like to do,” Ada whispered into the crook between Hecate’s neck and clavicle, kissing along her jaw. She held Hecate’s back, palms rubbing just beneath her shoulder blades and down her spine. Feeling the heavy velvet dress shift, knowing it was the only thing separating her from Hecate’s beautiful body, was pushing Ada’s self-control to its limits.

“Two people who care for each other as much as I feel we do… it’s,” Hecate shivered. “I know we have so much to say, Ada…but - I need you.”

Ada’s open mouth sucked in air as she snapped her fingers, relocating them to Hecate’s bedroom. She kept hold of the woman in her arms, pulling her in again with a soft hand at the base of her neck.

“Anything,” Ada kissed her promises into Hecate’s lips, now smudged with the proof of their ministrations. “I’ll give you everything.”

“Can’t you see?” Hecate combed her hand through Ada’s silver locks, drawing a thumb across her bottom lip, “You already have.”

* * *

Ada backed Hecate to the edge of the bed, hands roaming all over her slender body. Chocolate tresses framed the edges of the green velvet dress, so much ivory skin on display, it nearly made Ada dizzy. Ada moved from her lips down to Hecate’s neck and exposed chest, living for every hitch of her breath, every moan, and soft, pleading sound.

Ada wanted to take her time with Hecate. They’d waited years, and she didn’t want them to rush through this. Still, it felt impossible. Ada could hear Hecate’s breath quicken with each moment, each centimeter of their skin that came into contact.

She could feel Hecate reach for the zipper on her back and took the opportunity to wrap her arms tighter around the slim witch, grabbing her sinful ass with both hands while she kissed the spot just under her ear on her neck.

“Tssss, oh god,” Hecate clung to Ada, finally freeing her shoulders from the confines of the borrowed dress. She whispered, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” before leaning her head down and playfully biting the offered skin, finally licking where her teeth left marks.

“I know full well what I’m doing to you,” Ada moaned, grinding her hands in equal measure around Hecate’s full and tempting backside. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.”

Hecate’s mind and body buzzed. She felt like she was made of lightning. Everywhere Ada touched set her aflame.

“I don’t what this to move too fast for you,” Ada said as she placed featherlight kisses on Hecate’s neck, bidding her further undone.

“If you think waiting nearly thirty years is too fast for me, then my darling, we have much to discuss,” Hecate teased through her smile. “However, that discussion will have to wait until much, much later.”

“How delightful,” Ada kissed her again, grinning from ear to ear when she pulled back. She shrugged her shoulders in an effort to free herself from the confines of the dress. It fell past her ample breasts, but lingered around her middle, exposing a plum bra with little lace flowers detailing on the sides of her cups.

“Let me,” Hecate leaned in, kissing Ada’s wine-stained lips, tickling her collar bones and arms with long nails, making her way down her chest with slow, soft kisses.

“Oh, Hecate, I’ve - I’ve wanted you for so long.” The rise and fall of Ada’s chest was evidence of how every touch made her forget to breathe, turning her to wildfire. Hecate pulled the rest of the dress down fast, sending more thrills through Ada’s now exposed body.

“Have a seat on the bed, please,” Ada tried to push down her arousal. She wanted to draw out the feeling of Hecate’s body on hers, the wicked ways her hips moved, and just how sweet her mouth tasted. “I have plans for you before you distract me to my wit's end.”

“What are you - oooh, yes.” Hecate practically growled as Ada leaned over her, grazing fingertips on the front of her gorgeous dress, playing teasingly with her breast through the fabric. “Mmmmmm, how are you… Oh god - how are you doing this to me?”

Ada could see her nipples hardening beneath the thick emerald gown. Taking a pillow off the bed and placing it on the floor beneath her, Ada slid down Hecate’s body, kneeling before her.

Hecate tilted her head to the side. “Please, Ada, I don’t know how to ask…”

“Ask for anything you wish. I want to make you feel as adored as you are,” Ada pressed her lips to Hecate’s clothed thigh before reaching up again, sliding a hand between the warm fabric and her ivory skin.

Hecate tossed her head back once more as Ada slowly palmed her breast beneath sheer lingerie. She tried to avoid Ada’s eyes, their connection so intense, it felt like staring into the sun. Ada’s other hand began stroking past her knee, up her thigh, working her way under the heavy skirt. She stopped at the edge of Hecate’s thin underwear, taking her chin between her fingers, turning her face back until their eyes met.

“You’ll tell me to stop if you need to, won’t you?”

Ada wanted to please her in every way, but she would never push Hecate into something she wasn’t ready for. She could see her tight pink nipples hardening further beneath her touch, begging to be licked. Hecate seemed to be wearing practically nothing under the dress, sending a new wave of wetness between Ada’s legs.

“Please, yes, I… it’s just so much,” Hecate’s eyes became unfocused. Every part of her was throbbing. Her breasts were so sensitive, even the air was heavy. Her cunt felt like it was too hot to touch, but Ada knew better.

“Why don’t you show me how you like to be touched?”

Hecate’s mouth fell open as she gasped at the bold question.

“You… you want me to touch myself in… in front of you?”

“I do. Shall I undress you, or do you want to do it on your own?”

Ada began lifting her skirt, looking into Hecate’s wanton eyes.

“I’ll do it.” Hecate snapped her fingers then, removing everything but the wisp of her lingerie. Her legs were only slightly parted, but it was plain to see the darker black satin at her center, wet with excitement.

“Is this just from me?” Ada asked, stroking a thumb through the wetness.

“You, Ada Cackle, do not play fair,” Hecate said with a gravelly voice, though she made no move to cover herself.

Ada was too turned on not to stifle her giggle. This was the first long, intentionally lustful glance she was permitted to cast on Hecate, and she took it for all it was worth. She was finally unburdened by the fear of her secret being found out, having been so accustomed to averting her eyes, afraid that if she looked too closely or for too long, she would be accused of something untoward.

“Don’t forget that turnabout is fair play,” Hecate warned before spreading her legs wide. Ada took a deep breath, trying to inhale Hecate’s scent, mouth watering with desire.

Free of her dress, she sat on the edge of the bed, wearing nothing more than a sheer lace bra and satin panties, her hair draped in heaps around her shoulders like a shawl. She wasted no time then, bringing a hand between her legs, drawing a finger up from her center, through the wet patch of fabric, landing at the top edge of her panties.

“You’d like to see me touch myself? Wouldn’t you?” Hecate scooted closer to the edge of the bed, using the closest of the four posters to ground herself.

“Yes,” Ada swallowed. “Very much.” Her glasses clung to the edge of her nose, top teeth biting her bottom lip. She was fighting every instinct to touch the goddess spread out before her. What did she ever do to deserve this heaven?

“Is it because you want to know what I looked like in bed all those nights after I went back to my rooms? Did you touch yourself after our little late night chats, Ada?” Hecate slid her finger back down, pushing the fabric into her wetness.

“Oh god, did you?” Ada’s eyes peered over spectacles. “Did you touch yourself and think of me?”

She was dripping now. She had wanted to torture Hecate, but the joke was on her.

Hecate’s left hand came behind her left thigh, joining the other in the game. Her feet balanced her weight at the base of the bed.

“Sometimes…when we were all together at the staff parties, I would be standing right next to you, too close I’m sure, and I’d breathe you in.”

Ada shuddered at the revelation. Hecate’s proximity was always such a comfort. She’d grown to depend on her being right beside her, and now, with their intimacy growing, she could have smacked herself for not making a move sooner.

Hecate’s left hand came to hold the right side of her panties at a crucial point. Nothing was revealed, but the idea that Ada would soon see sent sparks from her mind to other very alive parts of her body. Kneeling in her underwear, she could feel her sensitive nipples reach peaks inside the confines of her bra, the tops of her inner thighs sticky with the proof of her arousal.

“When we would say our goodnights in the hall, or in your office after having a nightcap, I would…mmmmm… I’d wish that I was bold enough to kiss you. That our kisses would inspire so much more.”

Hecate was turning herself on just by recounting the story. With one hand still threateningly close to revealing all, the right one continued fingering her veiled wetness.

“But I didn’t do that, did I, Ada?” Hecate stared into Ada’s eyes, lips turning up seductively.

Ada looked like she was in a hypnotic state, breathing heavily, “You never did.”

“Do you want to see what I’d do?” Hecate asked knowingly, rubbing herself harder.

“Mm, please,” Ada begged. “Please show me.”

Hecate pulled the fabric aside, revealing her pink, wet folds. Ada’s gasp was audible. She sounded as surprised as the day they unearthed the Founding Stone.

“This is what I’d do,” Hecate’s long, black talon spread through her wetness, slowly dragging from her clit to opening, only to be brought back up to her clit again.

“Do you see what you do to me, Ada Cackle? Do you see what you’d make me do all those nights I couldn’t have you for myself?”

Ada was sure she’d died. She must have died some time before Hecate moved her panties aside to reveal this paradise. She was sure she’d never seen anything so beautiful in all her life. Her mouth opened on instinct, hand coming up to her neck which now felt like it was made of flames.

Hecate’s fingers dipped inside, revealing a growl while she let her head roll back, giving Ada a show she wouldn’t soon forget. Ada, in turn, felt an involuntary spark ignite within, reaching out to Hecate, making the air between them smell sweet and earthy, like they were in the forest.

Ada heard Hecate’s moan, knowing they were connected in spirit. She could see Hecate losing hold of her sanity, one, then two fingers dipping in and out of her hot center.

“I can’t wait anymore, Hecate,” Ada confessed, and with a few quick motions, she surged forward replacing Hecate’s finger with her own tongue.

“Oh god….Ada, yes… oh, yesss.” Hecate fell back on the bed, arms and curls framing her head while Ada’s arms wrapped around her thighs, face buried in her heat.

Ada licked reverently and hungrily from Hecate’s opening to her clit, repeating the motion until a high squeak came from her lover’s throat.

“I think you need more from me, don’t you, dear?”

“Oh, please, yes! Don’t stop, don’t…yess!”

While Hecate was pleading for more, Ada rounded her opening with two full fingers, pulsing at her entrance a few times before sinking them into Hecate’s warm, sopping cunt.

“Oh god.” Hecate bellowed with a low, deep insistence. “Fuck me, please! Please…”

Hecate gave herself to Ada then, her back arching off the bed, fists full of sheets, before falling back, breasts bouncing with every thrust that met Ada’s skillful hand. Low, insistent moans escaped her dry throat, the muscles in her neck stretched as if she was a living Renaissance painting.

Hecate reached one hand between them to hold the hand Ada wasn’t fucking her with. Ada squeezed it and licked her clit firmly as she hummed in approval at Hecate’s unbridled passion. Ada had never seen Hecate allow herself so much pleasure before, and it made her burst with pride.

With sounds of Hecate’s climax approaching with every lick, Ada flattened her tongue and added a third finger slowly.

“OH yes! Oh, Ada, unnnhhhhhhgod. Please, yes! Please don’t stop! Plea…”

Hecate cut herself off with a swift inhalation that sounded like the last breath before diving into water.

Ada licked through Hecate’s tensing thighs, sopping up every drop of her moisture. Just as their past connection had felt all-encompassing, Hecate’s orgasm made its presence known with a burst of gold that didn’t have an origin. It was everywhere at once like they were at the epicenter of a fireworks display.

“Ahhhh, yes!” Ada kept pumping her fingers in and out helping Hecate ride out the crash of her climax.

Ada braced herself on Hecate’s spread thighs and wiped her mouth lightly with the back of her hand, licking all that remained on her lips.

“Come here, oh god,” Hecate glowed, laying back further into the tiny sparks that lingered from her glorious downpour.

Ada raised up from her knees and layed in the crook of Hecate’s shoulder and chest. She took a breast in her hand, kissing the tight bud before giving it a lick.

“I didn’t even have the chance to worship these the way I wanted to,” Ada jokingly complained while Hecate wound her leg between Ada’s, wrapping an arm around her middle.

“I appreciate your confidence in thinking I would be able to last a second longer than I did with your wicked tongue.” Hecate kissed her softly, licking the evidence of her pleasure off her lips.

“Watching you touch yourself - I can say with absolute certainty, I’ve never seen anything so erotic… so sensual, or miraculous in all my life.” Ada released a shaky breath, letting her fingers circle Hecate’s rosy peak.

“Mmmhhh, you inspire in me a host of lascivious thoughts, but I can assure you I have _never_ done anything like that in my life.” Hecate giggled, pulling Ada in closer.

“You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” Ada returned the softness of Hecate’s kiss. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“Thank you for making me feel so…” Hecate smiled and rubbed their noses together sweetly, speechless. “Thank you, Ada."

* * *

Lying with Ada nestled close to her heart was surely the only place Hecate ever wanted to be. The bond they shared warmed her without blankets, making her feel like nothing but love radiated around them.

Hecate could hear the rain tapping on the window of her bedroom, a sound she relied on to fall asleep when she was younger. She could see the rise and fall of Ada’s chest, nestled in her arms, her breasts spilling out of her bra, skin hot and flushed with arousal. Hecate moved her fingers to tickle the fabric that hid her nipples, watching one harden invitingly. 

“May I?” Hecate asked with a husk to her voice, leaning up to look at the woman laid out beside her, letting black talons skim along Ada’s exposed waist.

They were wrapped around each other loosely, Hecate’s hips turned in towards Ada, her thigh wedged snugly between Ada’s, slowly rubbing against the fabric of her underwear.

“You don’t have to, dear,” Ada’s face turned up to the arm Hecate was bracing with, kissing it lightly.

“Can’t you see how much I want you?” She ground her naked cunt against Ada’s leg, moaning sensually in her ear. Hecate could feel her clit glide against the smooth warm skin now covered in her wetness, knowing it wouldn’t take much to come again.

“I - oh, Hecate, you’re driving me wild” Ada kissed her roughly, moving her thigh up as Hecate pushed her hips in, letting out a raspy sigh.

“Oh, no. No fair trying to take me twice when all I want to do is to make you scream.” Hecate levitated Ada an inch above the sheets, bringing a pillow behind her head and lowering her to the center of the bed. “Let me show you.”

A trembling growl came from Ada’s throat, her lids low and mouth smiling as she sat up and wrapped her arms around Hecate. “I’m yours,” she said, looking into her eyes, their foreheads meeting sweetly before Hecate kissed her nose.

Hecate’s nails scratched down Ada’s back with the intention of awakening every nerve, leaving a pink tingling map where she grazed. She knew there was a line between pain and pleasure, and it was a path she was eager to explore deeper another time. With the snap of her fingers, Ada’s full breasts were freed, feeling the warmth of Hecate’s naked form.

Hecate layed Ada back like she was the last of the most precious potion she’d ever touched. She straddled her hips, bending slowly to press their bodies together, enjoying the simple pleasure of their skin making contact. A sumptuous handful of milky white breast made Hecate twitch between her legs. She felt like a sculptor teasing clay to form perfectly taut nipples.

“Mmmmh - are you enjoying teasing me?” Ada rubbed the tops of Hecate’s thighs, letting an errant finger slip between them to feel her hard nub.

“Unnnnhh, you have no idea how to behave, do you Miss Cackle?” Hecate gathered her long curls to one side, making circular motions with her hips, spreading the proof of her climax on Ada’s lower stomach while her perky breasts swayed temptingly above the silver-haired witch.

Ada lifted up to hold Hecate’s face with her sturdy hands, “Do you have any idea how magnificently radiant you look right now?” Their stomachs and centers and breasts all connected, the heat of their wanton bodies making each other slick.

“How are you real?” Hecate blushed. “How am I ever supposed to go back to the life we had when all I want is this?” She kissed Ada before she could answer, pulling back with tears in her eyes. “I need you, Ada. Please, please can I have you now?”

“I could want nothing more than you, Hecate.” Ada fell back to the bed, Hecate kissing her once more before beginning her descent.

She kissed her way down to the breasts she was teasing, dragging her long nails along Ada’s sensitive flesh. Kissing, then licking the right nipple before switching to the left, Hecate pinched each lightly when she wasn’t sucking on them.

“I just want… to make you feel… like you’re my heaven,” Hecate growled between licks, bringing one hand between them, having disappeared Ada’s underwear a second before, dipping a long finger into her wetness.

“What are you doing to me?” Ada said breathlessly. “Oh Hecate, it feels like… oh my… uhhh, it’s… oh god, it’s like I’m catching fire everywhere you touch.”

“You’re already so wet, my darling. Did you get this wet from touching me?” Hecate circled Ada’s nipple one last time with her tongue before closing her full lips around the hard bud.

“You have no idea. Mmmm - I - just the thought of getting to touch you, especially where I just touched you… oh, god - for so, so long, Hecate. I’ve wanted you -” Ada squirmed more, arching her back slightly, obviously tortured by the delicate finger slipping over and around her clit.

“Ada - I - I’ve never wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you… as much as… I want us.”

Their eyes locked, suddenly aware of how serious and intimate the moment had become. Hecate was afraid that her admission would be too much, but Ada let a tear fall, holding Hecate’s face with one hand, rubbing her cheek with her thumb. “I want us too. So, so much.”

Hecate laid her head on Ada’s waist, relieved at how a few simple words could fill her with such intense relief and hope. She kissed a new path further down, moving up on her knees, her sloped back and breasts hanging down as she got into position. She opened Ada’s legs wide, staring into Ada’s beautiful, pink pussy. Ada squirmed again as Hecate realized how self-conscious she might be.

“You, Ada Cackle, are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Keeping their eyes locked, Hecate lowered her head until Ada could feel her lover’s breath against her wetness.  Hecate’s tongue ran a long, slow lick through Ada’s slit. The thoughts of worry flew from her, her mind free. She wasn’t afraid of not being enough, or not knowing how to please the woman she loved, her instincts taking hold.

Ada inhaled sharply, only to release a guttural moan as Hecate stroked her index finger near Ada’s opening, lapping at her hardening clit.

“Oh Go… oh yes, Hecate… oh my swee…” the words died on Ada’s lips as she traded them for low gasps and moans.

The sounds Hecate made between her lover's legs sounded like she was devouring a perfectly ripe pear, juices on either side of her wide grin, face grinding deeper into Ada’s pussy.

Ada’s hips lifted without her knowing, “Yes - yes, oh god,” Hecate’s free hand reached up between Ada’s thighs, roaming over her stomach, up her side, finally reaching up to tweak a taut nipple.

Nothing felt better than bringing Ada to the edge and making her feel wanted and loved enough to jump over it. The only sounds in the dark room were Hecate’s fingers slipping through Ada’s wetness, her tongue lapping at her clit, and Ada’s escalating moans all drowning out the rain coming down outside.

She finally stopped teasing and pushed two dexterous fingers into Ada’s hot cunt.

“Ohhh, oh fuuu- god, yes, yes, oh please -” Ada begged, head rolling back as she spread wider than before.

Hecate was pumping two fingers in and out of Ada, watching her heavy breasts bounce with every thrust. Her backside was up under her spread legs, cunt so sensitive, she could feel the air tickling her clit with every thrust of her hand. She moaned, humming her approval and adoration into Ada, who in turn cried out, gripping the covers with all of her strength.

“I’m - ooh god Hecate- I’m… oooooh,” Hecate used a touch of magic to whip the tip of her tongue quickly over Ada’s clit before placing her whole mouth around the sensitive nub and sucking steadily. “Ahh, Hec… Hecate, my... oh god there, oooh, there, yess!”

Ada, drunk on endorphins, was too overcome to speak. The crash of her orgasm felt like someone had trapped her under wave after wave of pleasure in a sea of Hecate’s love. Her breath came to her only after she did.

Hecate’s fingers were surrounded by the clenched muscles of Ada’s dripping core, so she did what any considerate lover would do, languorously sliding them through her moisture, hoping the delicious friction would inspire another round.

“You brilliant woman!” Ada giggled, throwing her arms around her head, clenching her legs together at the knee. Hecate crawled on top of her, moving an arm from her face to give her a kiss only to see the tears coming from her smiling face.

“Are you alright?” Hecate feared the worst before asking, “Did I hurt you? Please tell me?” She settled to the side of her, letting her

“No, no, don’t worry my dear, I’m just so happy.” Ada wiped her eyes and leaned in on Hecate’s chest. “Can I tell you something?” She started tracing a pattern from the freckles on Hecate’s chest.

“Anything.” Hecate’s arms wrapped around Ada, hoping to fill her with the feeling of safety she felt.

“I heard you, you know,” Ada disclosed, peeking up over her specs.

“When?” Hecate’s brow furrowed. “Just now?”

“No. I - When you were about to save my life.” Ada stilled her hand.

Hecate held her breath, knowing exactly what she meant.

“I’m sure I said many… I thought it was too… well, I couldn’t live with myself if you were gone and I didn’t say…”

“You said you loved me,” Ada interrupted.

Hecate’s lips pinched together and her heart sped up. The color in her face gathered at her cheeks and chest.

“I heard you say that you loved me before we were bound,” Ada’s eyes teared and her face flushed as she waited for Hecate to put her out of her misery.

_She loves you too. You know she does._

Ada made her feel like her best self. She was cherished and respected, cared for and accepted just as she was. Ada never wanted to change her and she knew she had loved Ada for all that she was. She felt heady with anticipation, knowing it was just the beginning.

“I did say that.” With Hecate’s admission came a rush of confidence. Her wide eyes sparkled, looking at the woman in her arms playfully.

Ada wrapped her leg around Hecate’s, bringing a hand to her cheek, “And now?”

“And now, Ada Amelia Cackle, I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

Ada’s smile lit up Hecate’s features, a few joyful tears running past her glasses and down her face. There was no need to rush. The truth was free and finally washing over them.

“My love for you has only ever grown, but I assure you, it’s been there for ages.”

Hecate brought her hands up to Ada’s face, slowly drawing her fingers over her forehead and cheeks, finally bringing her soft lips down on Ada’s.

Resting their foreheads together, breathing in the perfection of the moment, Ada confessed, “I wish there was a word stronger than love because then I’d be able to articulate just how much a part of my heart you are. For all that we’ve been through together and all we have yet to experience, I’m so grateful to be bound with you, my darling Hecate.”

Hecate smiled brilliantly, laughing into the silky hair of the woman she loved so dearly. Together they were unstoppable. Who knew how deep their bond would become over time? It was hard to imagine anyone loving someone more than she loved Ada, and they had only just begun.

“You’re everything,” Hecate whispered, tilting her chin up, kissing her once more as she smiled. “Everything.”

Hecate pulled the covers over their naked bodies, tangling their limbs as Ada nestled into her warm embrace. She let her fingers slip absentmindedly over the expanse of Hecate's hip, and Hecate couldn't help but purr with every soothing stroke. She glanced up at the ceiling, still speckled with age and cobwebs, remembering that they were tucked away in this relic from the past, so far from the academy and everyone they knew. But Hecate had come to realize it was not the place that mattered, nor the past. It was what one chose to make of the present, and the people more than anything, who made her feel at home.


	8. Epilogue

Ada and Hecate sat in their cozy armchairs by the mantle, reading new releases of their favorite authors in magical non-fiction, feet nestled playfully on the ottoman between them. The warm hearth was lined with bundles of dry herbs and flowers exuding an earthy perfume aided by the warmth of the fire.

Hecate hovered her book to take a sip of sherry, glancing over at her partner, feeling a smile creep slowly from her eyes. Ada met her gaze, closing her own book and setting it in her lap.

“I almost forgot to give you something.” Ada snapped her fingers, holding out a brown, kraft paper package with stars and squiggles drawn all over it. “Your favorite student wanted you to have this for the Winter Solstice.

“If the handmade wrapping paper is any indication of this student’s flair for the arts, then I suppose I don’t even need to read the accompanying note,” Hecate cheeked. 

She plucked the small card off the package, reciting the shaky script handwriting enclosed aloud. 

 _“_ Dear Miss Hardbroom, I hope you and Miss Cackle have a nice holiday. I wanted to make you something special for your home away from home. Thanks again for the witching! I can’t wait to read it! See you next term! Happy Solstice, Mildred Hubble. _”_  

Hecate folded the note, unwrapping the paper delicately, no doubt to save a scrap of it as a small sentimental token she never would have admitted she was apt to keep. 

“Well...” Hecate turned the frame to show Ada what Millie had done, clearing her throat as she wiped a small tear from her eye. “It is, actually, a very thoughtful gift indeed.” 

The frame held a beautiful watercolor of Cackle’s Academy in all its glory, the sun setting behind the castle as Ada and Hecate stood shoulder to shoulder in the foreground. 

“For all her faults, you must admit, Hecate, she is certainly a talented artist.” Ada took a sip of her sherry.“Where are you thinking of hanging it?”

Hecate tucked the neatly folded wrapping paper into the back of the frame as she stood, crossing the room to the entryway. “I was thinking right here,” she said, turning back to see what Ada thought. 

“Lovely.” Ada knew that’s where she’d want it to go since they had conversations about the vacant space. That’s where she told Millie it would likely go when she’d commissioned the piece some time before. 

Pendel and Morgana perched on a pillow in the window as the snow fell outside, taking turns playing with a homemade catnip satchel. Hecate padded barefoot back to her partner, lowering at her side to kiss her long and slow. 

When she rose to return to her seat, Ada asked “What was that for? Not that I’m complaining.”

Hecate melted into the cozy chair, taking another small sip of her drink before meeting Ada’s twinkling eyes.

“For your thoughtfulness. I love you, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musical inspiration for "Coming Home"
> 
> Title inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTrKkqE9p1o  
> The Doris Day song Ada puts on when Hecate comes down the stairs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4ZyPCAurBQ  
> The song Ada and Hecate dance to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8TB_8H23EDI


End file.
